


The Fallacy of Trust

by jennarem



Category: Glee
Genre: AU, Multi, straight!Blaine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-07
Updated: 2013-07-07
Packaged: 2017-12-17 23:05:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 43,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/872989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennarem/pseuds/jennarem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt Hummel is a junior at NYADA, visiting his hometown of Lima for a few weeks.</p><p>Blaine Anderson is a sophomore at the Lima campus of OSU. He has overbearing parents, a mostly-comforting girlfriend, and a lot to live up to.</p><p>When they meet on the highway late one night, everything changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please disregard my blatant ignorance of what going to college is like.

“ _Can’t read my, can’t read my, no you can’t read my poker face…_ ”

Kurt smiled as he drove through the dark towards Lima. As he headed home for a school break, he’d felt like reminiscing on his high school days, so he’d found some old Lady Gaga music on his iPhone. He almost felt seventeen again, driving in his old Navigator, which his dad had dropped off at the Columbus airport earlier that day(Kurt had insisted on driving himself home, not wanting either his dad or Carole up so late to pick him up).

The car didn’t run as well as it used to(it had actually taken Kurt multiple tries to start it), but it brought back a plethora of memories. He hadn’t been back to his hometown in a long time, opting to mostly stay in New York over the previous summer, looking out for auditions and helping usher Rachel’s visiting dads around the city.

Kurt was still at least an hour away from Lima when the car started making funny noises. Clunking, sort of. He turned down his music, trying to convince himself that he was just paranoid. Alas, he heard it again. _Ka-thump!_ Coming from the left side of his car. Biting his lip, he muttered a small prayer and continued on.

 

 

Ten minutes later, Kurt was pulled over on the side of the highway. The car had begun stalling and slowing, regardless of his constant pressure on the accelerator. Finally, he had to stop the car, and now it wouldn’t start up again. He sat in the driver’s seat and leaned over to grab his suitcase, which his phone was tucked into. He pulled it out and pressed the lock button. No reaction. He pressed it again, and then realized that it must be dead.

“Dammit,” he said. No way to contact Triple A or his family. He was in the middle of nowhere at nearly eleven o’clock at night.

Frustrated, Kurt got out of the car and walked around it. Despite having a mechanic for a dad, he still didn’t actually know much about fixing cars. He could change oil and even handle a flat tire, but he was at a loss for what to do now. He didn’t even know what was broken, let alone how to fix it. Dejected, he leaned against the side of the car and put his head in his hands, wondering what to do.

After a moment, though, he heard a sound in the distance, and then noticed a brightness beyond his hands. Removing them from his eyes, he looked up to see a car heading towards him. _Yes_ , he thought. _Thank God_.

He stepped out slightly, unsure of what to do. He’d hailed cabs before, but he hadn’t ever flagged down a car. Is it the same general thing?

Fortunately, the car was already slowing down. It stopped right in front of him. He took a step forward and tapped on the window.

It rolled down, revealing a lone person in the car. It was too dark to make much out, but Kurt could tell that the driver was male, and rather young. “Yes?” They said.

“Hi!” Kurt replied. “Sorry, um…my car’s not starting, and my phone is dead. Would it be possible to borrow your cell phone so I can call a tow truck?”

The man inside smiled. “Sure, just-“ he paused. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry, I forgot-I left my phone in my dorm, I don’t have it with me.”

Of course, Kurt flags down the single car in all of America that doesn’t have a cell phone in it. He stepped back slightly, sighing. “Well, thanks anyway.” He said, trying to figure out what he was going to do.

The man in the car-more of a boy, really, he had a younger-sounding voice-spoke again. “Where are you headed?”

Kurt raised his eyebrow. “Lima.”

The boy smiled. “Hey, me too. I could, um, give you a ride, if you wanted. I don’t want to leave you out here.”

Kurt pursed his lips, skeptical. “I’ve never hitchhiked before,” he said.

“Good,” the boy said. “Because I’ve never picked up a hitchhiker. In this situation, I’m just being a good Samaritan.”

Kurt sighed, debating internally. He could get into a car with a stranger-admittedly, a young and so far not freakish stranger-or he could spend the night on the side of the road.

“I’m not a serial killer, I promise,” the boy added.

Kurt smiled. “That’s what all serial killers say.”

The boy shrugged. “I guess that’s a risk you’ll have to take.”

Kurt thought for a moment more. “Okay, fine. Let me get my bag.”

Kurt actually had multiple bags, but he decided he should probably just grab his carry-on, which had his bare essentials in it. He could sleep in his dad’s sweats and squeeze into some of his high school jeans for the drive back to the car the next day. He locked up the car, pocketed his keys, and then opened the passenger-side door of the stranger’s car.

 

 

“My name’s Blaine,” the boy said once Kurt was buckled.

“Kurt.”

Blaine put his foot on the accelerator, and they were off. Kurt sneaked a glance at his driver, and was able to observe much more from inside the car. He was young-probably right around Kurt’s age. His skin was smooth. He had dark, wavy hair, gelled down impeccably to his head. He was wearing a collared shirt and a cardigan. Kurt smiled. As far as random drivers, he could have done much worse. Blaine was rather attractive.

“So, you live in Lima?” Kurt asked, curious. McKinley was really the only big high school in the area, and certainly Blaine was in high school at the same time as Kurt. But he’d never seen Blaine before, he was sure of it.

“Uh, yeah,” Blaine said. “I go to college there. OSU.”

That explained it. He was a college boy. Which meant he was certainly within Kurt’s age-range. “Where are you from, then?”

“Westerville,” Blaine said, not taking his eyes off the road. “I’m just coming from there now, actually. I was visiting my parents.”

Kurt raised his eyebrow. He knew where Westerville was, and it was only a stone’s throw from Columbus, where the other OSU campus was located. Why would a Westerville boy choose to go to a campus further from his hometown, especially if he visited his parents?

“Do you like Lima?” Kurt asked.

“Oh, yeah, sure. I mean, it’s all right. A nice town.”

He didn’t seem exactly overjoyed about it, which made the puzzle of why he was attending college there that much stranger.

Blaine spoke again, instigating conversation for the first time. “Do you live there?”

“Well, I used to. My parents still do. I’m in college in New York now, though.”

“Oh,” Blaine said, sounding interested. “New York, as in the city?”

“Yeah. I go to NYADA.”

“Never heard of it.”

“New York Academy of Dramatic Arts.”

For this, Blaine afforded Kurt a glance, momentarily looking away from the road. “You look like you could be an actor.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“Just a fact.”

Kurt was a little put off. He’d thought they’d get to flirting by now. Looking at the clock, he could see that they’d been driving for a good five minutes. He took a breath.

“Well, I am. An actor. And a singer.”

This piqued Blaine’s interest. “A singer? Are you any good?”

Kurt smiled. “I’m all right. I’ve been known to get solos.”

“Hmm,” Blaine said, now interested in the road again. Kurt looked out the window for a moment. Then he spoke again.

“What about you? What’s your major?”

“Oh,” Blaine said, as though he was entirely surprised that the conversation had turned to him. “I’m, uh, still undecided. I don’t have to declare until next semester.”

“Well what are you going to declare?” Kurt had never been the kind to be unsure about his future. He’d known what he wanted since he was in middle school.

Blaine shrugged. “I dunno. Probably business or something. I might-I might have to transfer to the Columbus campus. They’ve got more majors available.”

“Then you’ll be closer to your family, too.” Kurt pointed out.

“Yeah,” Blaine said softly after a moment.

 

Over the next forty-five minutes, Kurt found out many things about Blaine. He was a big fan of football, and had played it in high school. He was an only child. He’d attended a public high school in Westerville. He was a sophomore at OSU and lived on campus.

Kurt explained how he’d lived in Lima his whole life, before moving to New York. How he had one stepbrother. That he’d been a cheerleader for a short time in high school. That one surprised Blaine, although he seemed to appreciate it.

They were in Lima, driving towards Kurt’s house, when Blaine revealed the thing that most shocked Kurt about him.

“Thanks for driving me,” Kurt said. “Turn left, here.”

“No problem,” Blaine replied jovially as he put on his blinker. “It’s totally on the way.” Then he looked at the clock. “Shit, it’s late.”

Kurt saw that it was almost midnight. While it was a Sunday, it still didn’t strike him as very late for a college student. “Have a class in the morning?” Kurt inquired.

Blaine shook his head. “Nope. It’s just that I told my girlfriend that I’d go over to her place tonight, but I think it’s a bit too late now.”

Kurt stared at Blaine and gulped. “Oh. Uh, that’s too bad.”

Blaine shrugged. “Oh well. I’ll see her tomorrow, anyway. Uh, which way?”

They were sitting at a stop sign.

“Left,” Kurt said dejectedly. “Second driveway on the right.”

They pulled up in front of Kurt’s house. Kurt picked up his bag and opened the door. He looked back at Blaine, momentarily. “Well, thanks again.”

Blaine smiled. “Of course. Hey, maybe I’ll see you around town.”

Kurt nodded. “Yeah, maybe. Well, bye.”

“Bye.”

Kurt got out and shut the door behind him. As he headed for the front door he heard the car drive off.

He let himself into the house quietly, aware that everyone was asleep. He tiptoed up the stairs and went into his old room, shutting the door and putting his bag down before sitting on the bed.

_Girlfriend?_ Blaine had a _girlfriend?_ Kurt couldn’t believe it. I mean, sure, it was Ohio, and the boy had played football. But _Kurt_ had been on the football team for a short time, too! Kurt put his head in his hands. Living in New York must have majorly messed with his gaydar, because he could have _sworn_ that he was picking up vibes from Blaine…

Sighing, he got up and headed to the bathroom to wash his face. As he exfoliated he stared in the mirror, comforting himself. He’d spent his whole life trying to get out of Lima, anyway-why bother getting attached to a boy here?

Much more placated, he found some sweats to wear and took off his shirt, then slipped into bed.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Kurt liked being home simply because he loved seeing his dad and Carole. While he loved his life in New York City, with the bright lights and the cultured people and the following-his-dream bit, there were times when he felt very lonely, the single person who understood himself in a city of millions. At home, he nearly always felt understood.

It was also a nice break from the hustle and bustle of big city life. It can get a bit tiring to catch train after train and run down nearly identical blocks to get to where you’re going. He knew Lima like the back of his hand, which was comforting after months of being constantly surprised and turned around by New York.

Carole cooked breakfast the next morning, shooing away Kurt’s offers to help. They sat around the table catching up, and Kurt entertained his parents with endless amusing tales from the city(often slightly censored due to content). They asked about Rachel and he told them how she’d nearly been kicked off the cast of one of the school’s plays for disregarding the director so much. They gave Kurt the few updates about life in Lima, and Burt told some stories from the shop-which he still managed, but didn’t do actual work nearly as much as he used to. They sat there long after they’d all finished their egg-white omelets, talking. Eventually, Burt asked, “Hey, Kurt, where’s your car? It’s not in the driveway.”

Kurt gasped-he’d completely forgotten about his abandoned car. “Oh, God. Well, it’s stuck on the highway about halfway to Columbus. I broke down last night.”

Kurt retold the story of the previous night, explaining how he’d gotten home after the car stopped.

“What a nice boy,” Carole said regarding Blaine.

“We should go pick it up now,” Burt said. “We’ll have to stop by the shop to pick up a couple things, but I’m pretty sure I can get it working no problem.”

Kurt helped Carole clear the dishes, and then went upstairs to find some of his old clothes. When he found an outfit that fit relatively well, he and his father headed out. They drove back on the highway, and after forty minutes Burt slowed down and they looked for the spot where Kurt’d been forced to leave the car. They pulled a U-turn and parked in front of it. It took Burt about twenty-five minutes to get it running again, but he assured Kurt that it would work fine now.

“You gonna follow me home?” Burt asked.

Kurt thought for a moment. “I think I’ll go through town and get something to drink,” he said. He was craving caffeine, and he knew that nothing his father’s fifteen-year-old coffee maker could produce was going to suffice.

“Well, I’ll see you later, then.” Burt said, climbing into his car and signaling back onto the highway.

Kurt got into the Navigator and began the drive back, turning on the radio. When he got into Lima, he drove straight for one of his old haunts.

The Lima Bean was a local café that Kurt had spent many an afternoon in, chatting with Mercedes, stopping in for a pick-me-up before studying. He parked and walked in, appreciating the relative emptiness of the shop. He walked up to the register and ordered his usual, a nonfat mocha.

Once he’d received his drink, he sat down at a table, facing away from the entrance, and pulled out his phone. He surfed the web while sipping his hot drink. He was rolling his eyes at a Facebook status when someone spoke behind him. “Uh, Kurt? Is that you?”

Turning around in his chair, Kurt saw Blaine standing behind him, holding a coffee. Kurt’s mouth opened slightly in surprise. “Blaine!” he said. “Funny seeing you here.”

Kurt hadn’t been able to tell just how _short_ Blaine was while he was driving, so he was surprised to find that he didn’t even clear five-nine. Another thing that he hadn’t been able to appreciate while in a car was just how nice his legs looked in those form-fitting jeans. Kurt tried to ignore this and instead listen to what Blaine was saying.

“Yeah! I mean, I said I’d see you around, but…I didn’t think it would be so soon.”

Kurt laughed softly. “Weird. Well, do you, uh, want to sit down?”

Blaine thought for a moment, glancing out the window. Then he turned back to Kurt and smiled. “Absolutely.”

He walked around the table and took a seat across from Kurt. Kurt set down his phone and smiled at his companion. “So, how are you?”

Blaine sighed. “I’m stressed, actually. Classes are just kind of hitting me hard right now. Finals seemed really far away last week and now they…well, they don’t. I just got out of a particularly awful Economics lecture and I needed something to perk me up before History this afternoon.” He gestured to his coffee.

Kurt nodded sympathetically. “I’m sorry.”

Blaine shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll pull through. What’re you doing here, anyway? Shouldn’t you be back in New York studying for finals?”

Kurt smiled. “No, NYADA doesn’t do midterms. Our year is set up in trimesters, and I just finished one. Three weeks off until the winter trimester begins.”

Blaine looked at a loss. “You don’t have finals in winter?”

Kurt shook his head. “We’ve got final tests and projects at the end of the year, but not until then.”

Blaine sighed and shook his head in disbelief. “You are so lucky.”

Kurt chuckled. “You say that, but you’ve never had a directing major scream at you. I’m just having a much… _different_ college experience than you.”

“That’s for sure,” Blaine said before taking a sip of his drink. “What’s it like, living in New York City?”

Kurt leaned back in his chair. “Well, it’s wonderful. I mean, I love the city. It’s not for everyone, obviously, but it’s great for me. I get to meet so many different people, and there’s so much culture, so many different things to experience. And people are just so much more accepting.”

“Accepting?” Blaine asked, raising one of his dark, thick eyebrows.

“Mm-hmm,” Kurt replied, taking another sip of his coffee.

Blaine still seemed like he was waiting for an answer.

“Oh,” Kurt said, realizing that he’d sort of left something out-something that he had thought had been implied within their previous conversation, but then again, he’d already been wrong about Blaine once. “I mean, accepting of my sexuality. I’m gay.”

“Oh,” Blaine said, nodding. His eyebrow came back down, but Kurt saw it draw together with the other for just a second before smoothing out.

“Being out of the closet in a conservative town in Ohio just…wasn’t nearly as easy,” Kurt added.

“Well,” Blaine said, looking down at his coffee. Then he looked up, meeting Kurt’s eyes again. “That’s great, really. I mean, you’re right. It can’t be easy here. There isn’t a lot of…acceptance.”

Kurt smiled. He was borderline relieved that he hadn’t scared Blaine off, and even happier that the subject wasn’t immediately changed. “Well, I survived,” Kurt told him. “And now I’m much better off.”

Blaine nodded. “Good. And, I mean-your parents, were they…cool with it?”

“Completely. My dad has always been very understanding.”

Blaine nodded some more, drinking from his coffee cup thoughtfully. He glanced at his watch, then. “Oh. I should really get back to campus,” he said, sounding apologetic, which was nice.

Kurt nodded. “It was nice talking to you, Blaine.”

“Likewise,” Blaine said, standing up. “Bye, Kurt.”

“Bye.”

Kurt watched him walk out of the café, then turned back. He took a long drink of his mocha, and wondered why he hadn’t given Blaine his number before he’d left.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning Kurt came downstairs to find his father in the kitchen, sitting with a box of donuts in front of him.

 _“Dad,”_ Kurt said, scolding.

Burt looked up and smiled at his son. “Hey,” he said defensively. “I woke up early and _went to the gym_. I figured I deserved some sort of reward.”

“Why not a low-fat reward?” Kurt asked as he headed to the already-brewing coffee maker.

“I’ve only had one of ‘em.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Put them away before that changes.”

Burt begrudgingly followed his son’s instructions, putting the box into the fridge. “Got any plans for today?” he asked Kurt.

“I haven’t got any plans for the next three weeks,” he said. “Besides relaxing.”

Burt smiled. “Good. Then you won’t mind going grocery shopping for us today.”

Kurt shot him a look. “I am a _guest_ , Dad.”

“Hey, I raised you. The least you can do is buy some food for your stepmother and me.”

Kurt rolled his eyes as he poured coffee into a mug. “Fine. But not until this afternoon.”

“Great.” Burt clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll be watching football in the living room if you want to join me.”

Kurt shook his head, smiling. His dad still offered, every time.

 

 

 

Kurt walked down the produce aisle, staring at the handwritten list Carole had given him. She was planning on making a pasta dish that required a _lot_ of vegetables. He had finally picked out a squash and was heading for the tomatoes when he saw a certain short figure with gelled curly hair that was already standing there.

“Okay,” Kurt said as he walked up. “This is just getting weird. Are you following me?”

Blaine turned around to see Kurt’s smirking face. He smiled slightly in surprise. “I could ask you the same question,” he responded.

Kurt shrugged. “I guess they mean when they say it’s a small world.”

“Well, it’s a small town, at least.”

“I’ll give you that,” Kurt said. “Plus, everyone needs groceries.”

“And coffee,” Blaine added. “So it’s really not very surprising at all.”

Kurt laughed. Blaine spoke up again. “So, did you ever get your car back?”

“Oh, yes, yesterday I did.”

“No permanent damage?”

“Oh, no,” Kurt said, waving his hand nonchalantly. “My dad’s a mechanic, so he got it running in no time.”

Blaine raised an eyebrow. “He doesn’t happen to work at Hummel Tires, does he?”

Kurt chuckled. “He owns it, actually. And now you know my last name. I think _you’re_ the more likely candidate for stalker, here.”

Blaine shook his head, jokingly offended. “There aren’t many mechanics in the area. Small town, remember?”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Well it’s only fair that now I get your last name too. For safety reasons.”

Blaine smiled. “BlaineAnderson.” He stuck out his hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

Kurt shook his hand, impressed with the warm, firm grip. “Kurt Hummel. But you already knew that.”

Blaine grinned, and Kurt matched his smile. Then he turned to the pile of tomatoes in front of them. “Well, I don’t want to distract you from your shopping,” Kurt said.

Blaine laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I was standing here wondering how the hell to choose a tomato.”

“I can help you out, if you want.” Kurt offered. “I am somewhat of a tomato connoisseur.”

“Thank God. I need an expert.”

Kurt picked one up and rubbed the surface. “See, you want a tomato that’s _glossy_ , and sort of shiny on the outside. This one won’t do- it’s too dull.” He set it back down. “You try.”

Blaine’s hand hovered carefully over the pile of red vegetables, finally picking one up and holding it up to the light. “What about this one?”

Kurt took it from him, their hands brushing momentarily. Kurt squeezed the tomato slightly. “Nope, this one is too soft. Overripe. It should be tender, give slightly to the touch, but not too much.”

Blaine looked at Kurt, a bemused expression on his face. “You really _are_ a tomato expert.”

“I would never lie about such a thing,” Kurt said dramatically, putting his hand on his chest as though he were offended. Blaine laughed.

“Fine. How about…this one?” Blaine handed Kurt a tomato. Kurt examined it, and then handed it back.

“Perfect. How many do you need?”

Blaine shrugged. “Probably just two. It’s for salsa. My girlfriend and I are cooking Mexican food for dinner.”

With that simple reminder, Kurt felt a slight pang in his chest, remembering that all of this chatting, what he had perceived as flirting, was for naught. Blaine was not only taken, but also straight. _Don’t forget that_ , Kurt told himself. “You should probably get three. Just in case.”

He and Blaine picked out the rest of their tomatoes and then walked to the cashiers together, both having completed their shopping. As they waited in line, they argued about the magazine stands next to the check-out counters.

“I’ve just never seen the appeal,” Blaine said. “Who cares about celebrities?”

Kurt laughed. “Clearly you’ve never had a celebrity crush. You just don’t know how to _appreciate_ gossip.”

“But isn’t gossip inherently bad? These people’s lives are just…put on display for everyone. All of their secrets. That’s awful!”

Kurt shook his head. “No, no. It’s like…a particularly exciting TV show, but in real life. These people are crazy. As long as they’re earning millions of dollars, they might as well entertain us twenty-four-seven, right?”

Blaine sighed, still unconvinced. Kurt reached the front of the line and paid for his groceries, and then waited for Blaine. They exited the store together, heading into the parking lot.

“Well, I’m off this way,” Blaine said, pointing his thumb in the opposite direction. “It was nice seeing you, Kurt.”

“You too.”

Blaine turned and began to head off in the other direction. Kurt steeled himself. He wasn’t very good at this kind of thing. He never had been. He didn’t want to cross any lines or be too…forward, or anything. But he tried to think of the acting exercises he so often did at school. He tried to imagine himself embodying a character that was confident, unafraid, and wouldn’t let a single opportunity go.

“Blaine!” he called.

Blaine turned around, his face questioning.

Kurt walked forward to meet him. “Look,” he began, remembering the character he’d created in his mind. “I like you. I enjoy talking to you, and I’d really like to get to know you better. As fun as it is to randomly bump into you, it might be nice if we could hang out at a predetermined time, or something. Can I get your number?”

Kurt stopped. His character faltered, and he felt embarrassed and dumb. What was he doing, asking for a straight guy’s number?

“Sure,” Blaine replied, to Kurt’s surprise. “I agree, Kurt. I’d love to hang out while you’re here.”

So they exchanged phones, entering their numbers, and then handed them back to eachother.

“I’ll text you, or something,” Kurt said.

“Good. I look forward to it,” Blaine replied, and Kurt’s heart rebelliously jumped.

“Okay. Bye, Blaine.”

“Bye!”

They turned away then, walking to their respective cars. Kurt looked through his contacts as he walked through the parking lot.

 _Blaine NotAStalker Anderson_ was his most recent contact.

His damned heart sped up again, though Kurt firmly instructed it not to.


	4. Chapter 4

“Hey,” Maia said when she opened the door for Blaine. “How are you?”

Blaine leaned forward and pecked her on the cheek. “I’m great. How are you?”

She smiled, stepping back to let him into the house. “I’m fine. Did you get everything on the list?”

“Yes. I am capable of shopping, Maia.”

She rolled her eyes. “You _say_ that, but-“

“Enough with the cream cheese,” Blaine protested. “It was an honest mistake.”

They walked to the kitchen and began unloading groceries. “Where are you parents tonight?” Blaine asked.

Maia tossed her long, brown hair. “I dunno. Some business thing in Cincinnati or something. It doesn’t matter.”

Blaine lined up all the ingredients and set the grocery bags aside, then looked up to wait for instructions. Instead, he found himself being pinned to the counter, one of Maia’s hands on each side of him. “Hey,” she said. “Look at me.”

He did, and he didn’t mind. Maia was, in fact, gorgeous. She was also kind and generous and intelligent. Oh, and the first girl since middle school who had shown any interest in Blaine. They’d been dating for four months.

“How was your day?” Blaine asked.

“Boring,” she said. “I had an awful English class and a tolerable Biology class. But you know that Tuesdays are no fun.”

Blaine nodded. “I’m sorry.”

Maia smiled. “Don’t worry. It’s okay, now.”

She leaned forward and they kissed, Maia bringing her hands up to Blaine’s neck, Blaine gripping her waist. They pulled away after a moment. “We should start cooking,” Maia said.

“Whatever you say,” Blaine replied.

They broke apart, and Maia began rummaging through cupboards for pots and pans. “How was your day?” she asked Blaine.

“It was good,” he said, watching her. “Oh, you know that guy I gave a ride into town on Sunday?”

Maia pulled her head out of a cupboard. “Yeah,” she said. “You mentioned him. I still think that was sketchy.”

Blaine ignored the comment. “Well, I saw him in the grocery store. We just ran into eachother-how funny is that?”

Maia shrugged. “It’s a small town.”

“That’s what I said.”

Maia turned on the stove. “At least now you know he wasn’t some weirdo.”

Blaine rolled his eyes. He walked up to Maia and turned her around, cupping her face. “You worry too much.”

“You met him on the side of the road, Blaine.”

“And what if you broke down in the middle of the night with no cell phone? You’d be grateful if someone picked you up,” he pointed out.

Maia pursed her lips. “Yeah, I get it. Come on, stop distracting me. I’m hungry.”

They spent the next forty minutes in the kitchen, finally ending up with chicken burritos. They sat on the living room floor to eat, leaning up against the couch. They ate their dinner, talking in the easy-going way they were accustomed to. When they’d finished, Blaine took their dishes to the sink while Maia picked out a movie. They sat on the couch, Maia snuggled against Blaine’s chest, his arm around her shoulders. The movie was a sort of quirky romantic comedy. Blaine didn’t pay a lot of attention to it, but he liked it well enough.

Blaine enjoyed nights in like this because he felt so thoroughly _normal_. He was just a guy in college, spending an evening watching a movie with his girlfriend. There was no pressure; it was easy. At home and in classes and out in public he always felt a subtle weight of expectation on him. In Maia’s empty house all he had to do was be a doting, affectionate boyfriend, which he was good at. He smiled at her and smoothed her hair and felt like for once everything was in control. It was very therapeutic. He could hardly think of any other situation in which he felt so at ease.

 _Well, actually_ …he pondered as the main characters of the movie flirted in a coffee shop _, I can think of something_. Blaine realized what had been flitting in the edges of his thoughts all day-that chance meeting with Kurt. He’d been standing there in front that pile of tomatoes, feeling the weight pressing in on him, unsure of what to get and how many and what if he messed up dinner with Maia and ruined his one reprieve from the stress he always had and he had to go back to the store again and Maia would be mad and-

Then Kurt showed up and led him through it effortlessly, weaving helpful advice into playful conversation. Kurt just had a way about him of making things easy. After only a few moments of speaking to Kurt, the weight had lifted considerably. Now that Blaine thought about it, actually, he hadn’t felt pressured in any of their encounters. He would never have dared to ask about something as taboo as homosexuality(at least in his community and his family) if he’d had the weight crushing down on him; but he’d had nearly a full conversation about it with Kurt. _That_ was an accomplishment. He smiled, remembering his talks with Kurt. Blaine sat on that couch, breathing in the scent of Maia’s hair and realizing how relieving it was to have met someone else who had the capability of making him feel comfortable. Blaine was infinitely grateful that Kurt had asked to exchange numbers. _Maybe we can hang out sometime soon_ … Blaine thought, looking forward to it. Anything to make him feel lighter was reason to be excited. It was only a shame that Kurt was only in town for so long, though. Blaine hoped he could make a fast friendship with the boy so that they wouldn’t lose touch once Kurt went back to school.

Maia shifted against Blaine, bringing him back to the present. She turned her head towards him, smiling softly. Blaine loved that about her-how subtle she could be in her expressions and gestures, showing a whole world of emotion in just a slight movement. “Do you like the movie?” she asked.

“Mm-hmm,” Blaine responded, nodding.

“Do you like it more than making out?”

Blaine smirked. “Well, we can’t know until we compare, can we?”

Maia stretched forward to reach his lips then, shifting her whole body to face him. Blaine smiled into the kiss, feeling the weight of her body replace any metaphorical burden on him.

 

 

 

 

Blaine left Maia’s house the next morning for an early Calculus class. He kissed her on the forehead and she sleepily said goodbye before turning over in bed, her dark hair splayed wonderfully over her pillow.

Blaine checked his phone once he got on campus, thinking that perhaps Kurt had texted him-that was silly, he told himself, he’d seen him the previous day and it was only 9:30AM, but he checked nonetheless-only to discover that his phone was out of battery, since he hadn’t brought a charger to Maia’s. Sighing, he made a mental note to charge it when he stopped by his dorm after class.

Calculus was frustrating, giving Blaine a rather bad start to the day. He worried himself over the upcoming midterm-it was a month away, but he couldn’t help fretting-as he walked to him dorm. He plugged in his phone and then grabbed a banana from the minifridge to make up for not eating breakfast before class. Once his phone got enough power to turn on he checked his messages, but had no new ones. Trying not to be put off, he decided that if Kurt didn’t text him that day, he’d initiate contact first thing tomorrow. He wasn’t going to let Kurt slip through his fingers-not when their friendship had so much potential.

Looking forward to their eventual contact, Blaine went to his next class with a semi-improved mood.


	5. Chapter 5

Kurt spent the day waiting.

The first thing he’d thought of upon waking was that he’d gotten Blaine’s number. He quickly tried to chase away the excitement that brought _him-you’ve gotten boys’ numbers before, Kurt, and usually you get them from gay boys. Calm down._ But he couldn’t help it. He wanted to see Blaine’s smiling face again right away. He lay in bed, glancing at where his phone was charging on his nightstand. It would be so simple to send him a text…

_No,_ Kurt told himself, and he got up to take a shower so he wouldn’t be tempted by the phone anymore. That didn’t stop him from thinking about it, though.

_We just exchanged numbers yesterday,_ Kurt told himself while in the shower. _It would be weird if I texted him first thing in the morning. Like I’m trying too hard._

Kurt toweled off and examined himself in the mirror.

“Besides,” he said out loud. “I’ve seen him three days in a row. A fourth would be ridiculous.”

Kurt walked into his room to get dressed and ignored his cell phone, sitting there, full of possibilities. Leaving it behind, he went downstairs to see his family.

 

 

  

Burt had to go into the shop, so Kurt spent most of his day with Carole, chatting and playing Scrabble(it was a bit strange for Kurt to use actual pieces. He’d gotten far too reliant on Words With Friends). They discussed politics and local events and holiday plans. Thanksgiving was two weeks away, and Carole was already planning menu items. Finn would be coming up from his college in Arizona for a week, and possibly bringing a girlfriend along with him. Kurt was mildly relieved that Rachel was in Europe with her dads for the whole break so he wouldn’t have to juggle seeing both Finn and her. Their breakup in freshman year of college had been rather messy, and therefore it wasn’t an entirely good idea to have them in close proximity of eachother, even though they’d both dated since.

Eventually Carole, too, had to leave the house too go meet a friend of hers. Kurt was left alone in the house, and he spent a while just wandering around, looking at the things that had changed and the things that hadn’t in his absence. Frankly, he was pretty bored. Ohio didn’t really hold much for him, besides his parents and scores of memories(not all of them positive). He didn’t keep in contact with too many of his old high school friends-they were bound by the hours in Mr. Shue’s room, the common goal of ‘winning Nationals’(not that they’d ever achieved that), the determination of getting through high school in one piece. Once they no longer had that shared time and mutual aims there wasn’t much reason to stay friends. Kurt still spoke to Mercedes and occasionally Santana, but other than that(and Rachel and Finn, of course) he’d lost track of most of New Directions. After twenty minutes of walking aimlessly through his house, he could feel the thought of his phone upstairs nagging at him. With no distractions it was much harder to resist. Finally, he returned to his room and got it, unplugging it from the charger.

He had a couple new texts(some from Twitter and some from New York friends), which he responded to. Nothing, of course, from Blaine. Not that he’d expected that, or anything. Kurt sighed, setting the phone back down. He pulled out his laptop and decided to devote a few hours to the Internet. He had multiple emails from Rachel already, updating him on her trip through Europe. He found himself laughing mirthfully at the photos she sent of herself in various locations. One thing was for sure- Hiram and Leroy were making sure this trip was well-documented. Kurt could already hear Rachel talking about how much _culture_ there was overseas.

By the time Burt got home and came upstairs to ask Kurt what he wanted from Indian takeout, Kurt had somehow been sucked into an online fashion forum. Rubbing his eyes and shutting the computer, he went downstairs to help set the table.

 After dinner and part of a _MacGyver_ TV marathon with his dad and Carole, Kurt headed to his room. He washed his face and brushed his teeth and changed into sweats. He lay down on his bed with a book to read when something caught his eye.

His phone, still sitting on the nightstand. Kurt bit his lip, debating. Then, before he could change his mind, He put down the book and grabbed his phone.

He found Blaine in his contacts(grinning at the name) and composed a text message.

_Hey Blaine, it's Kurt. How are you?_

Kurt’s finger hovered over the Send button, considering. What if Blaine was busy? What if he was with his girlfriend or something? What if he only agreed to exchange numbers to be polite?

Kurt shook his head, took a breath, and sent the message. He set his phone down and picked up the book again, though he couldn’t really concentrate on it.

Only moments later, his phone vibrated. Kurt calmly reached over and picked it up.

_New Message from Blaine NotAStalker Anderson_

Kurt smiled, opening the text.

_I’m fine! I’ve been waiting for a text from you._

Kurt closed his eyes. Did this boy _mean_ to torture him? He tried to analyze the text, wondering what it meant. Blaine had been waiting for a text from him. Perhaps he simply meant that, since Kurt had promised to contact him, that it would be happening in the near future. So he’d been waiting for that to happen. But Kurt couldn’t help but sense a more earnest tone to it(not that texting had tone, which was extremely frustrating), which made him think Blaine really had wanted to hear from him. Was that normal? Is this how two heterosexual men wound interact? Kurt had no clue. He didn’t have a whole lot of experience in the area, typically having strayed towards girl friends. Their culture was easier for him to understand, anyway.

Finally, Kurt typed out a reply.

_Well, here it is. Is is living up to your expectations?_

Kurt picked up the book again, trying not to think to hard about the whole situation. He hadn’t even read a paragraph when he got another message.

_Absolutely. Haha. So, can we hang out sometime soon?_

Taking a deep breath, Kurt tried not to sound too excited in his answer. But he was excited. This boy was exciting him, which was no good.

_I'm free all the time. When works for you?_

Kurt gave up reading entirely, just tapping his fingers on the book cover until his phone buzzed again.

_How about tomorrow? I only have one class. Lima Bean at three-thirty?_

Kurt shook his head, wondering what he was getting himself into as he texted Blaine back.

_Sounds great. I’ll see you then._

And then Blaine’s final reply-that was the killer.

_Can’t wait._

Kurt sighed, turning off his phone and putting it back. He couldn’t focus on reading anymore, so he turned out his light and pulled the covers around him.

_Girlfriend,_ he reminded himself. _Girlfriend, girlfriend, girlfriend._

Still, he fell asleep with a smile on his lips.


	6. Chapter 6

Blaine woke up the next morning already happy. Late-fall sunlight streamed in through his curtains, throwing lines of light on his dorm room floor. He stretched in bed, yawning. Thursdays tended to be good days for him, anyway. He only had one class, Chemistry, and it didn’t start until one. He pulled the covers closer around him. His feet were cold-it was early November and the dorm heating system wasn’t always up to scratch. It was only eleven-thirty, so Blaine was content to loll in bed for a while.

As he lay there, half-asleep, he realized that today was going to be an _especially_ good Thursday, because last night he’d made plans to meet with Kurt. After his class he’d be going to the Lima Bean to see his new sort-of friend.

It was refreshing to have someone that he got along so well with so quickly. Blaine was a charismatic person, there’s no denying that. He was good at talking to people. Around campus, he knew a lot of people. But talking to people and knowing them is nothing like friendship. Blaine had had some good friends in high school, but nearly all of them had left Ohio for college. Blaine had opted for a single dorm, which his parents had no problem paying for. He had acquaintances in all of his classes and people he could go out to lunch with if he wanted. But the only person he was really close with, really _friends_ with, was Maia. And now, if things went well, perhaps Kurt. Blaine grinned. He really was excited for this afternoon.

After a while Blaine rolled out of bed to get ready. He showered and got dressed, picking out a pair of dark, snug jeans and a gray sweater over a button-up shirt. He added gel to his damp hair, subduing its natural curliness. He found all the books he needed and headed to class.

For Blaine, college was a lot like high school. He’d so far only taken general ed classes. He went to a very small campus. He did all his homework, even though he hardly ever had to turn any in. The only difference, really, was that he didn’t live with his parents. And frankly, that was probably the best part. Blaine wasn’t living the stereotypical wild college life either. He had a fake ID that he’d used a few times to get into bars, but he’d never had more than two drinks. He’d never done any drugs or gone to wild parties. He spent most of his time doing homework, reading, and watching TV. Or spending time with Maia.

Blaine didn’t lead a particularly interesting life. He never had, actually.

Chemistry was okay-he liked the professor, and actually understood most of the lab they were working on, which was nice-and the whole time he was looking forward to coffee afterward. He stopped by his dorm to drop off his bag, checked his reflection in the mirror, and then headed out for the café.

He parked his car and walked in. He glanced around the room, which was fairly busy for a Thursday afternoon, but didn’t see Kurt. He got in line and waited, smoothing down his sweater.

He got to the cashier, who politely asked what she could get for him. “Drip coffee, please.” He said, his tone coming out strangely nervous. “Medium.”

He paid and then waited at the other end of the counter for his drink. He’d just gotten it when he turned around and saw Kurt walk in.

Kurt was wearing very tight jeans with a light grey pea coat and white lace-up boots. There was a moment where Blaine could see Kurt but Kurt had not yet located Blaine, and Blaine used it to watch the boy and wonder how he was so unique and confident. That was the kind of outfit that no one he’d ever met in Ohio could pull off. It was so _New York_ but even more than that it was _Kurt_. Blaine couldn’t help but admire that incredible comfort that Kurt seemed to have in his own skin.

Kurt saw Blaine then, and smiled. Blaine waved as Kurt approached him.

“Hey,” Kurt said, tilting his head slightly. “Sorry, I’m a little late.”

“It’s no problem,” Blaine replied. “I just got here.”

“Great,” Kurt replied, his smile showing how nice his teeth were. Blaine blinked. “I’ll just get my coffee. Get us a table?”

Blaine nodded as Kurt walked back to the line. Blaine quickly turned and found a table for them to sit at, off in the back corner of the café.

Kurt found him a few minutes later, holding a large coffee cup. He sat down across from Blaine. Blaine, who had spent the previous several minutes figuring out what he was supposed to say(which was weird for Blaine-usually conversation came rather naturally to him), blurted out what he’d decided on. “How are you?”

Kurt took the lid off of his coffee, steam billowing up from the exposed surface of it. “Bored,” he replied with a sigh. Had he looked up from his coffee cup, he would have seen Blaine’s face falling slightly. “There’s not a lot to do in Lima besides hang around my parents’ house, so I’ve been spending a lot of time with nothing to do.”

Blaine smiled again when he realized that Kurt wasn’t bored by _him_ , but by Ohio.

“Well,” Blaine said, and Kurt finally looked up. “The whole town must seem pretty boring after living in New York.”

Kurt grinned. “Sort of. I mean, there’s no denying that there’s much more…variety in the city. But living there is hard. You have to be flexible. It can get crazy and wear you down sometimes.” Kurt paused for a second, hesitating before adding, “Sometimes I even feel alone, though there are so many people.”

Blaine just stared at Kurt for a moment. _Alone in a crowd_ , Blaine thought. _I know that feeling_.

But here, in this coffee shop, with Kurt looking at him and speaking so honestly, opening up after having met him by chance only days ago, Blaine didn’t feel alone. He felt like he was truly being looked at for the first time in ages. It was thrilling and unnerving, and it caused him to say something he never would have under other circumstances.

“Sometimes I wish I could move away.”

He said it softly, but he said it all the same. He’d never expressed that sentiment to anyone. He’d never even said it to himself out loud. When he’d applied for colleges, all but one of them had been within a day’s trip from his house. He had briefly looked at the Travel Abroad program flyers last year, before walking past them with a pang of regret. He’d hardly ever left the state, and he’d never been one of those people who talks about how they want to travel. But here, the truth had slipped out. Some mornings he woke up and, eyes still closed, wished that he would be somewhere other than Ohio. Sometimes he just looked at photos of beautiful places on his laptop. Places he had never been and thought he would probably never go. He’d never even admitted these thoughts to Maia-who was perfectly content with staying in Ohio, where her rich parents could furnish her every need and she could be a housewife to some conservative accountant.

Everything he knew was in a hundred-mile radius around his hometown, and it had always been easier for him to stay within that space. But at times he longed for more. For the unfamiliar.

While these thoughts ran through Blaine’s head, Kurt propped his chin on his hand and cocked one of his delicate eyebrows. “Then why don’t you?” he asked.

Blaine shook his head. “It’s-it isn’t that easy.”

“Sure it is,” Kurt replied. “I mean, transferring isn’t that big of a deal. Especially if you do well in your classes. And you could get a business degree anywhere, I mean-“

“No.” Blaine interrupted, which was rather unlike him. “It’s not the…academic part that would be difficult.”

Kurt’s face clouded slightly with confusion. “Then what’s the matter?”

Blaine rubbed the side of his face with his hand, staring down at his coffee. Finally, he said, “It’s complicated. I don’t…I don’t feel like talking about it.”

Kurt watched him for a moment, but didn’t push it. “Okay. Well, how are _you_?”

Blaine took a sip of his drink before answering. “Alright. Class today was fine.”

Kurt’s eyebrows furrowed. “You always base your own well-being around your schooling,” he pointed out.

Blaine opened his mouth to answer, and then paused. He realized that Kurt was one-hundred percent right. When someone asked him how his day was, he automatically thought to what he’d done in class. When he came home for dinners with his parents, he talked about school. And Maia, occasionally. But mostly school.

Why did he do that?

“You’re right,” Blaine said, sounding confused himself. “God, I’m sorry. I don’t even mean to.”

Kurt smiled slightly. “You don’t have to apologize. I just think it’s interesting, that’s all.”

Blaine shook his head slightly in disbelief how was it that this boy he’d only known for a few days was making him aware of so many things about himself that he hadn’t even known? Things no one else ever noticed?

Kurt had to be some sort of wizard, or something. Maybe a mind-reader. He knew so much about Blaine so quickly.

Blaine bit his lip. “Well, um, besides school…I’m fine. I’m…geez, I’m trying to think of things besides school to talk about.” He laughed nervously.

Kurt sighed, sitting up straight again. “Well…tell me about your girlfriend.”


	7. Chapter 7

Blaine blinked, his mouth open slightly. “My girlfriend?”

“Yeah, your girlfriend,” Kurt repeated. Hearing the word so many times made it feel so repetitive. Meaningless. But it wasn’t. “You’ve mentioned her at at least two of our chance encounters. She’s something besides school.”

Blaine nodded. “Um. Well, she’s great. We’re great, together.” Blaine seemed to gain confidence as he went on. “We’ve been dating for a little over four months. And, you know, no complaints.”

Kurt tried to stop his heart from sinking when he heard about Blaine’s great relationship, but he couldn’t help it. “What’s her name?” He wanted to give a name to whoever was dating this totally cute and unfortunately straight boy.

“Maia,” Blaine answered.

Maia. It’s a beautiful name. Maia and Blaine. Both of them, actually, have beautiful names. It’s only logical to think that she’s a beautiful girl, smart and funny and graceful and very, very female. Which was really a drag for Kurt. Out of masochism or a desire to keep the conversation going, he went on to ask, “How’d you meet her?”

“Uh, she was in one of my classes last year. Introductory English. Near the end of the year we were partnered together for a presentation, so that’s really how I met her. Then I saw her a few times over summer, just around town, and we started texting…one thing led to another, and we got together in early July.”

Kurt nodded, sipping his mocha. “That’s lovely,” he said finally.

Blaine hesitated before asking, “And…what about you? Are you, I mean, do you have a…boyfriend?”

Kurt laughed softly, humorlessly. “No,” he responded. “I’m single.”

“Oh, okay.” Blaine said quickly.

“It’s fine that you asked, though.” Kurt assured him. “But…no. I’ve pretty much been single since the end of my freshman year at NYADA.”

Blaine didn’t say anything, but Kurt could tell that he was waiting for the whole story. Kurt sighed. “You want to hear about it?”

“Only if you want to talk about it.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Okay.”

Kurt took a deep breath. “So, I move to New York City. I’m enraptured by everything, and it all sort of seems magical, at first. Classes are hard. I’m good at singing, and acting, but competing at a college level is different. I met a boy in my choir class. He was a bass, totally handsome, a native New Yorker. We talked in class, and then exchanged numbers. Eventually he was sweeping me off my feet, taking me to tiny Italian cafes and building tops to look at the skyline at night. I was totally in love. We dated nearly all year. Then…he made plans to go to Spain for the summer. I was willing to make it work, long distance for a few months, but he decided before he left that he didn’t want to try it. He was ready to move on, he told me. Had fallen out of love, or something. We broke up, he left for Spain. Never came back, actually. He’s still in Europe, I’m pretty sure. Probably fell deeply in love with a Spaniard on the romantic streets of Barcelona or something.” Kurt rolled his eyes. “There, now you have my sob story.”

Blaine shrugged. “That wasn’t really a  _sob_  story,” he commented. “Most of it was happy.”

“But not the ending.”

“Well, yeah.”

Kurt carefully sipped his drink. “Then again, most love stories will eventually end unhappily. Only one gets to last.”

Blaine snorted. “More than one, it seems, with the remarriage rates in this country.”

Kurt laughed at that. Why was Blaine so charming? He could so easily overshadow the uneasy feelings that always came with talking about Korey, even long after Kurt was over him. And Blaine had  _wanted_  to hear about Kurt’s past relationship, voluntarily. He cared enough to want to hear about the awful parts of Kurt’s life too. What kind of boy was he dealing with, here?

“True, but…remarriage doesn’t always mean a previous failed marriage.”

Blaine raised his eyebrow. Kurt continued. “My parents are remarried. My dad and my stepmom, I mean. Both of their previous spouses died.”

“Oh,” Blaine said softly. Kurt was used to the look on his face. The ‘oh-crap-your-mom-is-dead-I’m-so-sorry’ look.

“But Carole and my dad love eachother,” Kurt went on, trying to avoid any condolences Blaine might offer. “And I love her. I got a stepbrother out of it, too.”

Blaine nodded, smiling softly. “Tell me about your family.”

Kurt rolled his eyes slightly. “Well, my dad and Carole, obviously, live here. And my dad owns the tire shop, you know that. I actually introduced him and Carole-I knew her son, Finn, from school. They ended up getting married my junior year in high school. Carole is great. I’m really glad that-well, that if my dad was going to get married again, that it was her. And Finn, my stepbrother…well, he’s in Arizona, playing football in college. He can be obnoxious, but we do get along really well. They’ve all always been really supportive of me-well, except for when Finn picked on me before we knew eachother, but that’s irrelevant. I’m just…thankful, I guess.” Kurt chuckled. “Here I am, getting sentimental.”

Blaine was smiling as he heard about Kurt’s family. Kurt smiled back, took a sip of his drink, and then said, “Well, your turn. Tell me about _your_  family.”

Blaine’s smile faded slightly. “Uh…you know, my parents live in Westerville. No siblings. Haven’t I told you about this already?”

Kurt shook his head. “No, you’ve told me that, but you haven’t actually told me anything about your parents. Besides where they live.”

Blaine put both his hands around his coffee cup, looking down at it. “My dad…works in Columbus. He’s a surgeon. My mom, uh…well, she’s sort of the stereotypical housewife. She’s in a book club and the boosters for like,  _everything_  at the local high school, PTA and whatnot. She’s always really busy.”

Kurt waited, but Blaine didn’t go on. “That’s all?” he asked.

Blaine’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“That’s all you have to say about them?”

“Um…” Blaine glanced at his coffee, still looking confused. “I guess. Yeah.”

Kurt pursed his lips, but decided not to pursue it. He took one last sip of his mocha, finishing it off. He noticed that Blaine still had about a third of his cup full. Even in the complexity of Blaine’s expression, Kurt couldn’t help but notice the way the lamp above their table made his skin glow with a golden tinge; the way his thick eyelashes framed amber-colored eyes; the way his styled hair was curlier at the ends, escaping the product Blaine had put in it. His strong, thick jaw cast a shadow down his neck, his collarbone peeking out above his soft, gray sweater. Blaine was beautiful. More than that, Blaine seemed truly interesting, and slightly enigmatic. Kurt wanted to unravel his mysteries, to smooth out the wrinkle between his eyebrows. Kurt hated that he thought that way about this boy who would never show interest in him, but he couldn’t help it. He was attracted to Blaine in a strange way, interested in him from the very start, quickly becoming drawn to him, despite their vast differences and the uncrossable obstacle in their relationship. Even though he knew he was only going to get hurt in the end, Kurt didn’t cut it off. He didn’t save himself from late pain. Instead, he asked, “Blaine, would you like to go for a walk?”

Blaine looked up from his coffee, still brooding. After a moment, he smiled. “Sure.”

They stood up together and left the coffee shop, Kurt leading slightly. Blaine seemed content to follow.


	8. Chapter 8

Kurt and Blaine walked through the parking lot, bypassing their cars and heading for the street that led further into town. They were quiet at first, until Kurt spoke up. “You like living in Lima?”

Kurt had already asked that, Blaine remembered. In the long drive when they’d first met. It seemed longer ago than it actually was. Blaine wondered whether Kurt remembered asking before. “Yeah, I do,” he answered. “It’s close to home, but…it’s a smaller town, which is nice. More homey.”

Kurt frowned slightly. “So, you wanted to live in a small town?” he asked.

Blaine shrugged. “I dunno. I wasn’t looking for that specifically when I chose to move here, but I like it now.”

Kurt looked away, seeming to contemplate that. Blaine attempted to get his attention back. “What about you? Did you like living here?”

Kurt laughed. “Hardly. Maybe if I hadn’t been treated so awfully I would have been able to appreciate the small Midwestern town charm. But I basically just focused on getting out of here and into my future from middle school on.”

“And now you’ve found your future?”

Kurt glanced over at Blaine, meeting his eyes. “Yeah,” he said. “I think I have. More or less.”

Blaine looked down at the gravel under his feet. They were walking along the shoulder of the road; there was no sidewalk on this stretch. He wondered momentarily what it would be like to just  _know_  that he was in the right place, that his future was upon him. He usually felt like he was perpetually waiting for his life to actually happen.

“That must be nice,” Blaine mumbled.

“It’s wonderful. For the most part.” Kurt replied. “It can also be absolutely terrifying, realizing that this is  _it_ , what you’ve been waiting for. It’s not as easy as the movies make it seem. You have to work and there are dull parts to it, too. But I always feel like I’m finally doing what I’m supposed to be doing with my life.”

Blaine nodded. They’d reached town, and Kurt turned down a side street. Blaine wondered where they were going, but didn’t bother asking. He had other things on his mind. “How did you survive?” he asked Kurt. “I mean, before you were able to get out of here?”

Kurt slowed his gait slightly so that they were walking shoulder to shoulder. They were close enough that Blaine could feel the slight heat Kurt radiated on the chilly day. “Well,” Kurt said. “It was a combination of things. A supportive family, a pretty kick-ass attitude, some great friends…and my high school glee club.”

Blaine chuckled. “Really?”

Kurt nodded, completely unashamed. “Yep. Glee was…well, it was insane. I hated almost everyone in that room at one point or another. But overall…we were always there for eachother. Even though there were cheerleaders and football players and nerds and goths and divas and exchange students and religious freaks in there, all together at once…we all accepted eachother for who we were, regardless of popularity and reputation and whatever. It was kind of a miracle. Not to mention we got to sing some great songs. Music, too, helped me get through everything.”

“Wow,” Blaine said, his mind racing over everything that Kurt had said. “That’s…crazy. I’ve never heard of anything like it. High school always seemed to be about, well, separation. Cliques. Popularity.”

Kurt sighed. “It mostly was. But Glee was sort of an escape from it. It was a nice break from everything. Not that it didn’t have drama in of itself.”

They turned another corner then, Kurt still wordlessly directing their path. “Where are we going?” Blaine asked.

Kurt shrugged. “I don’t know. The park? It’s close.”

Blaine hadn’t been to any of Lima’s local parks. He’d never really had any reason. “Okay.”

Within another minute, Blaine could see a playground in the distance. It was cold outside but all the walking had him feeling slightly warm; he was looking forward to sitting down for a break.

Kurt opened the gate to the park and they walked in. It was deserted-perhaps too cold for any children to be out playing. There was a small, grassy field to their left and a playground to their right. They sat down together on a bench facing to swings.

“I used to come here a lot,” Kurt said, suddenly. “My mom…she would take me, when I was really little.”

Blaine glanced up at Kurt, who was staring at the playground, expressionless. Blaine hesitated. With anyone else, he never would have thought about asking-invading their privacy, bringing up painful memories-but with Kurt, he felt comfortable enough to proceed, as crazy as that was. “Will you tell me about her, Kurt?” he asked. “You told me about your dad and stepmom, but not your mother.”

Kurt took a deep breath. His nose was slightly pink from the cold. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “She…her name was Elizabeth. She was beautiful, and caring, and sweet. She loved to sing…she would sing to me a lot, and we’d sing together. She died when I was eight. I never really got old enough to…to know her as a person, beyond just being my mom.”

Blaine stared at Kurt. He sounded like he’d said these words before, they were ever-so-slightly rehearsed, but he still meant every one of them.

“I’m sorry, Kurt.” Blaine said quietly, earnestly.

Kurt nodded. “I know. Thank you.”

Blaine looked over at the playground, the colorful metal turning this way and that, monkey bars and steps and slides. Blaine considered for a moment. “Kurt…can I tell you something?”

“Yes.”

Blaine inhaled the cold air. He considered what he was doing, telling a near-stranger something so private. But he couldn’t stop himself now-Kurt brought it out in him. It seemed only fair to tell him, after hearing about his deceased mom. But even without that…Blaine thought that he would want to say it anyway. Kurt seemed like he would understand, somehow, perhaps even better than the few people he’d ever shared it with. “You know how I said I don’t have any siblings?”

“…yes.”

“Well, I mean, I don’t. And I never have. But…my parents, they had a son, before me. He was born seven years before I was. He, um, he died, when he was five. In a car accident. My mom was driving and he’d managed to undo his carseat buckle in the back seat, and they were hit by a truck at a T-intersection…my mom broke a few bones, but she was mostly fine. He was dead.”

Blaine didn’t look at Kurt, instead staring straight ahead. He’d only heard the story once, and had only retold it a handful of times. It still made him uneasy, saying the words out loud. “His name was Cooper. I…I never knew him. I wasn’t born for another year and a half.”

As Blaine stared forward, his eyes fixed on some distant point, he felt Kurt’s hand on his shoulder. He turned towards Kurt.

“I’m sorry, Blaine.”

Blaine shook his head. Kurt’s hand still lay comfortingly on his jacket. “It’s not-I mean, I didn’t even know him. It’s hard to miss him.”

Kurt shrugged. “It doesn’t matter whether you knew him or not,” he said simply. Then he let his hand slide off of Blaine.

Blaine knew that Kurt was right, though. Whether or not Blaine was capable of  _missing_  Cooper(it’s hard to decide whether you miss someone you never met, or if you just long for the idea of them), his untimely death still affected Blaine in a multitude of ways. It caused Blaine to grow up in a house filled with photos of a little boy he’d never meet. So much potential had ended in that car crash…potential that Blaine now felt he had to live up to, so that Cooper’s life hadn’t been a waste. So that the Andersons would still have a worthwhile child to offer the world. He had to make his parents proud enough for two-him, and his brother who he’d never met.

The pressure was on from the moment Blaine was born.

“Thank you, Kurt.” Blaine told him. He really was grateful. Grateful that Kurt seemed to somehow understand, if not all of it, than a portion of it. That was all Blaine ever wanted. To be able to show a portion of himself and have it not be analyzed, or appraised, or compared, but simply accepted.

“No, Blaine.” Kurt replied. “Thank  _you_.”

He was so sincere.


	9. Chapter 9

Kurt got back home around five. He’d simply told his parents that he was ‘going to get coffee’, not that coffee involved another person, so he hurried upstairs when he got inside, hoping to avoid questions. He knew that if they asked he could easily tell them-  _the boy who drove me home on Sunday, we just met up at a café_ \- but for some reason he didn’t want to. As if saying it out loud, sharing it with someone, would make it more real and therefore more heartbreaking.

But as Kurt lay on his bed in his room, he realized that he had to tell  _someone_. Because as heartbreaking as it would be if it were real, it would be even worse if it wasn’t.

Kurt pulled out his phone and composed a new text message.

_I know you’re roaming, but can you call me?_

Rachel texted back within minutes.

_Is there gossip involved?_

Kurt grinned, typing back an answer.

_It’s super juicy, too._

Moments later, he received a call from a strange number(he couldn’t be sure, but he didn’t think it had ten digits).

“Hello?”

_“Bonjour, mon ami!”_

Kurt laughed.  _“Vous etes en France, alors?”_

 _“Oui!”_  Rachel answered enthusiastically.

“Okay, enough. I haven’t had a French class in years and I can’t say much more than that.”

Rachel giggled. “I swear, it all comes back to you once you’re surrounded by the language.”

“Lucky you. Are you in Paris?”

“Not yet. We get there tomorrow. I’ll probably be sleeping for most of the day, though.”

“What time is it there?” Kurt asked, suddenly remembering that he should have taken that into account.

“About two AM. But don’t worry, I wasn’t sleeping anyway. My schedule is so messed up. I keep nearly falling asleep at museums and restaurants.”

Kurt laughed at the image of Rachel plummeting face-first into a plate of authentic French food, overtaken by fatigue. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry. I’m still having a blast. I’ve been watching French soap operas in the hotel room. It’s  _tres_  interesting.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “I’m glad you’re soaking up culture.”

“Anyway, what was this gossip you were going to tell me?” Rachel asked eagerly.

Kurt sighed, rolling over and propping himself up on his elbows. “Okay, so I met this guy.”

“Oooh! It’s  _boy_  drama?!”

Kurt sighed. “Not exactly. His name is Blaine. He’s going to college here in Lima. And he’s straight.”

“Not once you’re finished with him,” Rachel said suggestively.

“Highly doubtful, Berry. He’s got a girlfriend.”

“Oh. Damn.”

“Exactly. But he seems to really like me! I mean, as a friend. We had coffee today. As friends. And I keep trying to remind myself that he’s unavailable on every single level, but he keeps saying and doing these things that just make me want to fall for him. He tells me secrets and he’s super cute and athletic and smart and he has this great curly hair and these  _eyes_ …Oh God, it’s worse than I thought.”

“Deep breath, sweetie.” Rachel said. “It’s okay. Maybe you should stop hanging out with him, if it’s such a big deal.”

Kurt rolled over on to his back again, staring at the ceiling. “But he wants to hang out with me more. We’re practically already making plans for Saturday. It’s like he’s leading me on and he doesn’t even know it.”

Rachel sighed. “Well, you’ve got a couple of options. Keep hanging out with him, be his friend, and get over your feelings. Or, stop hanging out with him, wait ‘til you get back to New York, and find a totally hot guy there.”

Kurt snorted. “Yeah, because that’s been working so well for me so far.”

“ _Or_ ,” Rachel went on. “Wow him with your sensuality, and make him drop the girlfriend and cross over to the other side.”

“ _Rachel_!”

“Sheesh, just a suggestion. It’s my personal favorite, so far.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m jetlagged.”

“No excuse.” Kurt was smiling, though. He knew Rachel would make him feel better.

“So what’re you gonna do?”

Kurt chewed his lip, considering. “I think I’m gonna hang out with him Saturday, and see where it goes. If it gets to be too much, I’ll stop seeing him.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Rachel yawned. “Ooh! I’m going to try to get some sleep while I can.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Love you!”

“Love you too.”

Rachel hung up, and Kurt rested his phone on his chest.  _Je suis content de l’avoir_ , he thought.

 

 

 

Blaine got back to his dorm and spent the evening reading for various classes and watching TV. It was a quiet night in for him, but he didn’t mind. He was okay with being alone. He bought his dinner on campus but retreated to his room with it, not in the mood for socializing. He’d had a wonderful afternoon of the strange feeling of freedom he got around Kurt, and he didn’t want to mar the experience by having to consciously remember how to act around others again. He was content to bask in the memory of his meeting with Kurt by himself.

That night, as he lay in bed and tried to fall asleep, his mind again found itself on Cooper. He had long wondered what it would be like to have an older brother. To have someone besides his parents to turn to. He imagined that, had Cooper lived, he would be a great brother. Supportive and kind, but also teasing in a sibling sort of way. He imagined that they’d have played pranks on eachother and built blanket forts in their childhood. That Cooper would have been who he’d turned to for advice about girls, and college. He wondered what it would be like if he had someone who had already left the house and started his own life, giving Blaine some sort of guideline for what to do as he slowly became an adult. He imagined that Cooper would have inherited the tall genes from their father(Blaine’s lack of height came from his mother’s side) and would always be taller and bigger and stronger. He would tease Blaine about his height and while Blaine would act offended, he would always be sort of glad that he had a big brother to protect him, to face the world with.

Blaine rolled over, closed his eyes, and tried to project the photos of toddler Cooper in his parents’ house into an adult. His older brother and his best friend. It was easy to slip into sleep then-he was already dreaming.

 

 

Blaine didn’t have any classes with Maia, but on Fridays he always met her outside of her art class at 4:30. This Friday was no different. She came out of the classroom, her glossy hair pulled into a bun, with a few strands escaping and flickering in the breeze. Blaine noticed just how  _dark_  she looked against the gray-sky background, with her chocolate-colored hair and tanned skin(even in November) and brown eyes. She approached him, and he smiled.

“Hey,” he said, leaning in to give her a kiss. He tasted the fake-cherry flavor of her sticky lip gloss. He’d never really liked it when she put stuff on her lips-he preferred them bare and soft and natural.

“Hey there,” she replied, taking his hand. “Are you ready?” she asked.

“Ready for what?”

She grinned, showing her white teeth. “For dinner tonight.”

“Oh, right. Sure.”

Maia frowned slightly. “Why don’t you dress up a little? We’ll go to the nice Thai place.”

“Okay,” Blaine said. He’d been semi-looking forward to a cozy night in her house, but he wouldn’t argue with her.

“Pick me up at six?” She asked, twisting her pinky around his.

“Sure.”

She leaned forward, kissing him on the cheek. “I’ll see you then.”

She turned away then, her hand slipping out of his, and headed towards the parking lot. Blaine watched her go, her slim hips swinging back and forth.


	10. Chapter 10

Blaine pulled into Maia’s driveway, noting that her father’s car was in the driveway. He got out and walked up to the front door, ringing the bell and patting his hair, checking that it was still styled.

Maia opened the door. She was wearing a dress now, dark blue and shiny, wrapping tightly around her and dipping to show off her cleavage.

“Oh, Blaine,” she said, a trace of disappointment in her voice. “I wish you’d just wear a real tie every now and again.”

Blaine’s cheeks colored slightly. He glanced down at the white bowtie he’d put on-adhering to her ‘dressing up’ request- over his black button-up shirt. “What’s wrong with it?” he asked.

She sighed. “You just…look like a wedding singer or something. It’s okay. I’m almost ready.”

She shut the door, leaving him waiting on the porch for a minute before returning, now with a coat and purse. He caught her around the waist as she walked out. “You look beautiful,” he whispered to her, holding her close. She giggled.

“Thank you.”

They held hands as they walked down the drive to Blaine’s car. They got in and he backed out, driving towards the Thai restaurant. Maia took control of the radio, switching from station to station. After a few minutes, they arrived at the restaurant.

They were seated in a corner at a small table. The waiter asked for their drink orders. Blaine got a Thai iced tea, and Maia asked for Sprite. They chatted listlessly about classes, holding hands on the table, until their food came. Maia went on to tell Blaine about how her parents were taking a second honeymoon over spring break, traveling to Switzerland for a week.

“How come people can take multiple honeymoons?” Blaine asked, something he’d always wondered. “Why isn’t it just a vacation, then? Doesn’t a honeymoon have to be right after a wedding?”

Maia rolled her eyes and reached over to squeeze his hand, even though he was in the middle of scooping up pad thai noodles. “No, sweetie. It’s different. There’s a different sort of  _sentiment_.”

Blaine shrugged, continuing to serve himself. He still didn’t see the distinction.

They finished their meal, and Blaine asked the waiter to box up their leftovers. Maia rolled her eyes slightly, but he ignored it. He was a college student, he wasn’t about to let food he’d paid for go to waste. Once the waiter left, Maia turned to Blaine, reaching out to take his hand. He complied, and then noticed that she looked slightly nervous.

“What’s up?” he asked her.

She took a deep breath. “Well, I just wanted to…say some things to you. Blaine…we’ve been dating for a while now. And I just want you to know that I’m really happy with where we are. You make me happy.”

Blaine smiled. “You too, Maia.”

She nodded. “And…I really think this could be a serious relationship, you know? We work together really well.”

 _Not the most romantic way to put it_ , Blaine thought, but he continued to smile sweetly at her.

“Anyway,” she went on. “What I really want to tell you, Blaine, is that…I love you.”

Blaine blinked once. Twice.

“What?” he asked.

“Oh, God.” She said, sounding horrified. She pulled her hand from his. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-“

“No, Maia,” he said, trying to calm her down, reaching for her. “It’s okay. I just…you love me? That’s what you said?”

She put her hands in her lap, looking away from Blaine. “Of course that’s what I said, Blaine. You didn’t mishear me.”

“I was just making sure.”

Maia brushed back at her hair, still avoiding Blaine’s gaze. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. It obviously-and you don’t-“

“Maia!” Blaine said firmly. “Look at me.”

Slowly, she turned her gaze to meet his.

“Calm down,” he told her. “It’s okay. I’m just…processing, alright? I wasn’t expecting that.”

Maia bit her lip. She took her napkin off her lap and set it on the table. “I’m going to the restroom,” she said. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“No,” Blaine said as she stood. “Maia, please don’t-“

She ignored him, walking towards the back of the restaurant. Blaine sighed and leaned back in his chair, feeling deflated. The waiter walked up holding a couple cardboard boxes, stacked on top of eachother. He raised his eyebrows at Blaine. “Girlfriend troubles?” he asked as he handed Blaine the check.

Blaine sighed, taking out his wallet. “Just a misunderstanding,” he said, pulling out the appropriate bills and putting them in the checkbook before handing it back to the waiter. “Just keep the change for a tip.”

The waiter nodded politely and then stepped away, leaving Blaine alone at the table. Blaine waited four minutes for Maia to come back from the bathroom.

Finally, she approached the table. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“Don’t apologize,” he told her. “Let’s go outside and talk.”

She followed him out, not taking his hand. They reached the car and Blaine unlocked it. After depositing the leftovers in the back seat, Blaine got into the driver’s side and turned to look at Maia.

“Look,” he said, taking her hand and holding it between his. “I’m very sorry for the way that I reacted, okay? I didn’t mean to hurt you, not at all. I was just very surprised.”

Maia nodded, looking at him through her mascara-covered eyelashes. Blaine continued. “I’m glad that you told me how you feel. You’re _always_  allowed to do that, okay? Don’t feel embarrassed or anything.”

Maia nodded again. She hesitated, until finally asking, “But…you don’t love me? You didn’t say it back.”

Blaine sighed. Maia tried to pull away, but he held her hand tighter. “Maia,” he said, looking into her eyes, leaning forward so they were very close. “I care about you, so much. You’re one of the most wonderful people I’ve ever met, and I’m grateful everyday that I have you. But…I’ve never been in love. I’m not sure…I’m not sure how I feel. I haven’t even thought about it.”

“I think about it all the time,” she mumbled, looking down.

“That’s the difference between you and me, isn’t it?” Blaine asked, playfully. Maia met his eyes again. “I don’t know if I love you yet,” he said honestly. “But I know that you mean so much to me, and I don’t want you to go anywhere. And I’ll tell you exactly when I get to the point where I love you, okay?”

Maia licked her lips, then nodded. Blaine leaned in and kissed her. “Are we okay?” he asked, pulling away.

“Mm-hmm,” she said, though she sounded a little shaky.

“Do you want me to take you home now?”

“Yes,” she answered, her voice stronger now.

Blaine leaned away from her and started the car, but once they were driving, he set his right hand on her knee, squeezing it. She smiled at him in the rear-view mirror.

They drove back to her house and Blaine walked her to the door, kissing her goodnight on the porch. She went inside, and Blaine got back in his car.

“Jesus Christ,” he said to himself once he was finally alone.


	11. Chapter 11

“I think I really screwed up,” Blaine said.

Kurt sipped at his iced tea, watching Blaine dejectedly play with his basket of French fries. They were in a diner in downtown Lima. Blaine had clearly picked the location of their meeting-Kurt wasn’t particularly fond of places with a thin layer of grease covering every surface.

“How so?” he asked Blaine.

Blaine sighed, leaning back against the bright red upholstery of the booth. “So, last night, Maia and I went out to dinner.”

Kurt had known from the very start that this was going to be girlfriend trouble(“ _can we meet? I need someone to talk to. Girlfriend issues_ ” said the text Kurt had received that morning), but it was still very strange to him. He hardly ever gave advice on  _girls_. But Blaine had asked him, and they were going to hang out today anyway, and maybe Kurt just wanted an excuse to see Blaine, even if they had to talk about his girlfriend.

Blaine continued. “We ate dinner, and everything was fine, and then after our plates are cleared, she starts talking to me about our relationship and whatever. And it was fine, and sweet and everything…and then she said she  _loves_  me.”

Kurt swallowed his drink abruptly, slightly startled. “And what did  _you_  say?”

Blaine’s cheeks colored, and he looked down at his fries. “Um. Well, the first thing I said was ‘what?’”

Kurt laughed, and Blaine shot him a look. “I’m sorry!” Kurt said. “No, really. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have laughed.”

Blaine sighed. “It’s okay. It’d be funny if it hadn’t happened to  _me_.”

“So what’d she do?”

“Ran into the bathroom.”

“She _ran_?”

Blaine rolled his eyes, coming forward to rest his chin on his hands. “Well, no. She excused herself and then left for like ten minutes. Then she came out and we went into the car and talked.”

“And?”

Blaine exhaled heavily. “I told her that I really cared about her and I don’t want our relationship to change but I can’t say ‘I love you’ yet because I’m not sure if I do.”

Kurt felt a slight, painful twist somewhere in the vicinity of his heart.  _Doesn’t want their relationship to change. Figures._  He spoke anyway, trying to ignore his own discomfort. “How did she take it?”

Blaine shrugged. “Okay, I guess. She didn’t cry.”

Kurt nodded. “Well, not in front of you, anyway.”

“ _Kurt_!” Blaine exclaimed.

Kurt put his hands up in an ‘I-surrender’ pose. “I’m just saying.”

Blaine slumped back against the bench. “Yeah, you’re probably right. God, I just-I didn’t know what to do! That’s never happened to me before. I don’t think I love her. I mean, I love her, like as a person and a friend and everything, but I don’t think I _love_  her.”

Kurt nodded. “You probably shouldn’t tell her if you’re not sure.”

“I know,” Blaine rubbed his face with his hand. “That’s why I didn’t.”

They sat there for a moment, quietly.

“I’m sorry that happened, Blaine.” Kurt was sincere. Even though he didn’t particularly like that his attractive new friend had a girlfriend, he still didn’t like seeing Blaine sad. Especially when the cause was said girlfriend.

“Thanks. It’s okay. I mean…I think it’ll be okay. I just hope she doesn’t…put too much significance into it, or anything.”

Kurt nodded, his lips pursed. Girlfriends had a tendency to do that. Then again, so did he.

“I’m sure it’ll work out,” Kurt told Blaine. “And if it doesn’t…well, then it wasn’t meant to be. Right?”

Blaine groaned, his face falling into his hands. “I don’t even want to  _think_  about that,” he mumbled.

Kurt sighed. “It’ll be okay, Blaine.”

Blaine lifted his head up and nodded. “Okay,” he said, as though he was trying to convince himself. “Yeah.” 

He reached for his fries again, flashing Kurt a renewed smile. Kurt smiled back, but it faded as soon as Blaine looked down.

 

 

  

On Sunday, Blaine headed out to Westerville around four. Blaine’s parents insisted that he come over for dinner every Sunday. His parents were big fans of schedule and tradition. Blaine agreed to this arrangement because he wanted to make his parents happy, and one dinner a week was considerably better than dinner every night.

His mother answered the door when he arrived. She smiled widely and hugged him. Blaine could smell her strong perfume- too strong for his liking, too floral, but it was none-the-less his mother’s signature scent. Mrs. Anderson was short, shorter even than Blaine. She had a petite frame and thin fingers. Her hair was naturally a sort of mousy brown, but she had it regularly dyed light blonde. By the end of the day, when Blaine came to see her, lines in the powder on her face often began to form on her forehead where her skin wrinkled when she raised her eyebrows. She was wearing a modest, dark green dress with a white apron over it, and black pumps. Blaine came into the house and took off his coat.

“Your father’s in the living room,” his mother told him. “Dinner’s nearly ready. I’ll get you two in a second.”

Blaine followed her instructions and walked into the living room. His eyes, as always, were immediately drawn to the photographs on the mantel of the fireplace. Front and center was a family portrait of his mom, dad, and a three-year-old Cooper. There were plenty of pictures of Blaine above the fireplace, but Cooper’s was in the middle.

“Hi, Dad.” Blaine said, moving his eyes from the photographs to his father, who was sitting in a large leather chair, reading a novel. His father looked up, squinting before taking off his reading glasses. “Hello, Blaine.” He replied. He folded his book over his knee, keeping the page. “How are you?”

Blaine sat down on the couch. “Okay. Kind of tired.”

“Working hard in school?” Mr. Anderson asked.

Blaine’s smile was slightly strained, and he hoped his father couldn’t tell. “Always, Dad.”

His father grinned back at him. Blaine’s father had dark, curly hair with graying streaks. He also possessed the bright blue eyes that Cooper had inherited, while Blaine had gotten his mother’s amber-colored irises. Blaine’s dad was tall, with broad shoulders and a square jaw. He was handsome, even in old age. “Glad to hear it, son.”

Blaine’s mother called them into the dining room then, announcing that dinner was ready.

They sat down at the impeccably made table- Blaine’s father at the head, Blaine and his mother on either side. They held hands and Blaine’s father said a quick grace(“May the Lord bless us with our continued prosperity, give good fortune to those in need of it, and hold peace for those souls not with us tonight”). Blaine’s mother had made a pot roast for the evening. Blaine had never really liked pot roast. He’d never told his mother. It was one of her favorite things to cook.

They passed around food, serving themselves and laying napkins on their laps.

“So,” Mrs. Anderson said. “How are your classes going, Blaine?”

Usually, Blaine relied on this question(always one of the first things asked of him) to carry conversation throughout most of the night. Most nights he could easily go on about his various subjects and professors and assignments for most of dinner, his parents chiming in with stories of their own or supposedly helpful advice. Tonight, however, he didn’t really feel like talking about school. After Kurt pointed it out to him, he’d realized just how much he based his life on it. “They’re fine,” he answered simply. “We’re getting ready for finals, and whatnot.”

He put a forkful of rice in his mouth then. Blaine’s mother spoke again. “Good, good…what about that professor you were talking about last week, your writing professor? Was his class any better this week?”

Blaine shrugged while chewing, then swallowed. “Yeah, it was all right.”

Blaine’s mom glanced over to her husband. They shared a look. “You’ve generally got a lot more to say,” Blaine’s dad said.

“Hmm,” Blaine acknowledged. “I don’t know. I just feel like I talk about school enough, I guess.”

His parents definitely shared a look this time. The makeup lines on his mother’s face became more prominent.

“Alright,” Mrs. Anderson said with a cheery tone that didn’t sound completely genuine. “Well…why don’t you tell us about Maia, then? How is she?”

Blaine’s dad brightened, turning his attention fully onto his son and smiling. “Yes, how is Maia?”

Blaine sighed, wondering if perhaps he should have just prattled about his classes.


	12. Chapter 12

Blaine hadn’t seen Maia since the Friday night I-Love-You disaster. He’d called her Saturday night to make sure she was okay, and texted her throughout Sunday, but they hadn’t really had a  _conversation_. They’d just chatted about inconsequential things. Blaine was a little bit worried about what would happen when they moved beyond useless chatter.

“Maia is fine,” he said to his parents, hoping but not truly believing that that would hold them off, satisfy them.

Blaine’s father cut his meat while asking Blaine, “You should have her over for dinner again. It’s been ages.”

Blaine clenched his teeth. Maia had accompanied him to his family dinners(on his parents’ insistence) a few times in the past. She actually seemed to enjoy them more than Blaine, but perhaps being interrogated was a novelty to her. “She’s pretty busy right now. Finals coming up, and whatnot.” Perhaps if he could steer the conversation back towards school, they would let off.

“Has she declared her degree yet?” Blaine’s mother asked, and he could tell that she wasn’t just asking about Maia. They’d been hounding him to hurry up and pick a degree for months.

“Not officially,” Blaine responded with emphasis. “But she’s strongly leaning towards Global Studies.”

“Hmm,” Mr. Anderson mumbled skeptically before swallowing his pot roast. “Is that a…newer degree?” He sounded wary, disapproving. Blaine was a bit fed up with his father’s constant disparagement.

Blaine sighed. “I don’t know. I’m sure you could look it up online if you’re really interested.”

The reply had come out snappier than Blaine had meant it. There was a moment of silence, besides silverware clanking on china plates.

“I’m sorry, Dad.” Blaine finally said, unable to take it any more. “That was rude. Yes, I think it’s rather new.”

Blaine’s father nodded. “It’s all right. I know you’re stressed.”

 _No, you don’t_ , Blaine thought.

Sunday dinner was turning out even worse than usual. Blaine closed his eyes for a moment and told himself to grin and bear it.

“So, Mom.” He said, opening his eyes. “Are you helping organize that gala again this year?”

Blaine mother smiled, her eyes lighting up. “Yes, in fact, I am! I really think it’s going to be grand…”

Mrs. Anderson went on about the charity ball for some local organization. She had plenty to say, and for once Blaine was thankful for her many community duties that, as a child, had made him feel borderline neglected. At least he didn’t have to talk about himself anymore. He was a bit sick of himself.

 

Once he’d gotten back to his dorm that night, Blaine fell onto his bed. Dinner with his parents sucked all the energy out of him. Sighing, he got up to take off his clothes and set an alarm. He lay back down wearing sweats and a T-shirt and turned out his light. Even though he felt tired, he couldn’t fall asleep. Something was bothering him, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He took his phone off the bedside table. He knew that Maia would probably be sleeping already. He wasn’t sure he wanted to talk to her yet, anyway. Not before he saw her, so that he could gauge her expressions and make sure she was okay. Instead, he sent a message to Kurt.

_What’re you doing tomorrow?_

He stared at his dark ceiling until he got a reply.

_Helping my dad out at the shop. Why?_

Blaine bit his lip. He thought about setting down the phone and just going to sleep. But he wouldn’t be able to get to sleep, he knew.

_Just need to go somewhere besides campus and my parents’ house. I think I’m going crazy._

Kurt’s response was quicker this time.

_I can set up a psychiatric help booth outside the tire shop tomorrow._

Blaine smiled.

_An appraisal for five cents?_

He stared at the screen until it lit up.

_Special deal for you: First session is free._

Blaine’s heart jumped slightly. He was so glad he finally had a friend again, someone he could joke with and go to for help. Especially if he’d messed things up with Maia.

_There’s an offer I can’t turn down._

After sending the text, Blaine put his phone down and rolled over. He was asleep within minutes.

 

 

Kurt stared at his phone, his heart aching softly. If he hadn’t promised his father that they’d have some quality bonding time at the tire shop(which would mostly comprise of Kurt handing his dad various tools under a car), he’d choose to hang out with Blaine in a second. He knew it. Especially when it seemed like Blaine might open up to him-might let him see more pieces of the giant puzzle that boy seemed to be. He’d always avoided the topic of his parents when it came up, but did this mean he was asking to talk to Kurt about them? There was so much Kurt wanted to know about Blaine. It excited him, thinking about everything he could learn.

He debated how to reply for several minutes, before finally sending Blaine a final text for the night.

_Even a crazy person wouldn’t refuse that._

 

 

The next morning, Kurt was woken up by his father.

“Come on, up! I’m leaving soon.”

Kurt covered his eyes against the light. “Do I _have_ to?” he whined.

“Only if you want to please your father,” Burt teased. He closed the door rather loudly behind him.

Yawning, Kurt got out of bed. He showered and changed into clothes he didn’t mind getting dirty-an old, dark blue T-shirt and some straight-leg Levi’s jeans. He combed his hair, not bothering to style it, and then went downstairs to get breakfast and leave with his dad.

Kurt wasn’t a huge fan of getting dirty or fixing cars, which was mostly what went on in Hummel Tires and Lube. Regardless, he’d always liked visiting his dad at the shop. Burt always seemed so at ease there, at home. That tire shop was the one thing that had stayed constant throughout their life in Lima. It was comforting, in a sense; Kurt might not always have a mom, or a stable school situation, or a bright future, but he would always have that tire shop.

As predicted, Kurt spent most of the morning sitting on the ground next to various cars and handing his dad tools. Kurt knew a couple things about cars, and he could name everything under the hood(though not necessarily fix it if it broke). What happened underneath cars, though, was a mystery to him, one he didn’t really want to solve so badly that he’d lie on his back underneath a car that was most likely leaking something. He didn’t have a car in New York, anyway, so it didn’t concern him too much.

After a break for lunch, bought at the deli across the street, Burt had Kurt sit in the front office and fill out paperwork(which was the only part of his job Burt wasn’t particularly fond of). Kurt agreed, mostly because he was getting cramps from sitting against cars.

Kurt sat in his father’s desk, filling out papers, when someone knocked on the glass. Kurt glanced up from a form, expecting to see a customer that he’d have to direct back to the garage.

Instead, standing outside the office, he saw Blaine looking in at him.


	13. Chapter 13

Kurt stood up, smiling at Blaine. Blaine smiled back. Kurt walked around the desk and opened the door.

“Hey,” Kurt said.

“Hi,” Blaine replied.

“What are you doing here?”

Blaine grinned. “I heard there was a free psychiatric help booth here?”

Kurt laughed, remembering the previous night’s conversation. “You’re right….it must be around here somewhere.”

Blaine smiled. “Actually, I need my tires rotated. And I figured that getting them done at a mechanic where I knew the owner’s son would be more enjoyable.”

“Not that there are many mechanics in Lima.” Kurt pointed out.

“I’ve said it before: it’s a small town.”

They stood there for a minute, grinning at eachother.

Burt walked out of the garage, then. “Kurt!” he hollered. “Do you know whose Acura-“

Burt saw Blaine then, and stopped yelling. He approached the office. “Hello,” he said amicably to Blaine, offering his hand. Blaine shook it.

“Hi, Mr. Hummel,” Blaine replied. “I believe you were referring to my Acura.”

Burt smiled. “Right. What can I do for you?”

“I need the tires rotated.”

Burt nodded. “No problem. Should take about fifty minutes, if you’d like to come back then.”

Blaine glanced at Kurt, smiling. “I think I can wait here,” he said.

Burt glanced from Blaine to his son. “You two…know eachother?”

“This is Blaine, Dad.” Kurt said. “He drove me home last week. And I met with him the other day; remember?”

Kurt had finally mentioned to his parents that he was going to meet someone when he’d gone to the diner with Blaine the other day. They’d been pleased that he had some sort of friend in Lima-“We wouldn’t want to bore you,” Burt had said jokingly.

Now, Burt smiled at Blaine. “Yeah, I remember. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise, sir,” Blaine responded.

“I’ll get started on those tires,” Burt said, rubbing his hands together. “I’ll see you boys in a bit.”

They waved at him as he retreated into the garage. Kurt opened the door to the office and gestured to Blaine. “Come on inside.”

They walked into the office, closing the door behind them. Kurt sat down behind his father’s desk and Blaine pulled a chair from along the wall so that he sat across form Kurt.

“You look very professional,” Blaine noted. “You practically could be a psychiatrist.”

Kurt laughed. “No, I’d need a couch in the room you could lie down on.”

Blaine chuckled. “What a shame.”

“We’ll have to do without.”

Blaine raised an eyebrow. “You really want to play shrink?”

“If you want to talk about going crazy, I don’t mind.”

Blaine rubbed his face. “I’d like you to know that I was very tired when I was texting you last night.”

Kurt smiled. “Ah, exhaustion. Almost as good as intoxication for bringing the truth out of people.”

“I don’t think shrinks are allowed to get patients drunk.”

“I don’t see why not. It’d make the whole thing easier.”

They laughed together. Kurt loved that feeling, of shared laughter. How it filled the room and for a second, nothing unpleasant could touch them. No girlfriend, or parent, or school. It was just Kurt and just Blaine, laughing together.

Blaine sighed, his breath still laced with giggles. “Anyway, I’d just gotten home from my parents’ house. They were getting on my nerves a bit.”

Kurt arched an eyebrow. “Weren’t you just at your parents’ house last week? I mean, when you picked me up. You said that, right?”

Blaine nodded. “Yep. I have dinner with them almost every Sunday.”

“That’s nice,” Kurt said. “That you can see them so often.”

Blaine shrugged, looking down. “I guess. I mean, I spent eighteen full years with them. I don’t mind a little distance.”

Kurt looked at Blaine with slight wonder. Kurt couldn’t ever imagine not wanting to see his parents. He loved his dad so much-he’d never get tired of visiting him. And Carole, who had been there for him for years, practically a second mom. Perhaps it was the experience of already having lost a parent-he would never get to visit Mom, never spend too much time with, never even get close-that gave him the close ties he had with his parents. But even so…maybe Blaine’s parents just weren’t the kind of people he wanted to spend large amounts of time with. Blaine’s previous description of them had been brief and rather superficial. It had been impossible to tell what they were really like, but Blaine’s avoidance of the subject said quite a lot about it, at least in Kurt’s eyes.

“You do live pretty close to them, though,” Kurt pointed out, trying to figure out how to approach the subject delicately.

Blaine looked up then, but his eyes still seemed shifty. “Yeah, well. I can’t control where the campus is.”

Kurt tilted his head to the side, examining Blaine. After a moment of thought, he said, “But you did choose the Lima campus. Over the Columbus one.”

Blaine scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah. I like Lima, though.”

“But you didn’t know it before you went to college here.”

Blaine stared at Kurt for a second, his expression almost challenging. Kurt worried for a moment that he’d gone too far. Then Blaine laughed nervously, diffusing some of the tension. “Sorry,” he said. “You’re really going for the psychiatrist thing here, aren’t you?”

Kurt shrugged, leaning back in the chair. He was still waiting for Blaine.

Blaine nodded, exhaling slightly. “Okay, well, yeah. I chose the Lima campus. Not really because I liked the town, but because…it put some distance between me and my parents. I thought I might feel sort of…stifled, if I had to go to school with them looking over my shoulder. They…tend to do that kind of thing.”

“Overprotective?” Kurt inquired.

“Not exactly,” Blaine answered, searching for words. “Just…they know what they want me to do. And they let me know what they want me to do, too.”

Kurt felt like he’d reached a breakthrough-but his excitement couldn’t outweigh the cold feeling in his stomach, thinking about what Blaine had said. “But…you can still do what you want, can’t you?”

Blaine shrugged. “I guess. Sort of.”

“That wasn’t a very conclusive answer.”

“I don’t have a better one.” Blaine’s tone took on a hint of helplessness.

Kurt wanted nothing more than to stand up, walk around the desk, and put his arms around Blaine. He wanted to hold the boy close and stroke his gelled hair and comfort him, telling him that he could do whatever the hell he wants, regardless of his parents. But he knew that that wouldn’t be entirely acceptable for a straight guy, and he didn’t want to make Blaine uncomfortable or confused. Because Blaine had once again shared a secret with him, and Kurt clutched these secrets to himself, more valuable than diamonds. He didn’t want to do anything that would endanger the friendship that they were quickly forming, so he restrained himself. Still, he had to say something.

“I’m sorry, Blaine.”

Blaine looked Kurt straight in the eye. He smiled then, still a little sadly, and said, “I know. Thanks.”

Kurt smiled back.

Blaine laughed a little bit. “So, how much do I owe you for this psychiatric evaluation?”

Kurt chuckled. “Well, you can’t pay me yet. I’m not done.”

“You’re not?”

“Oh, no,” Kurt said. “We’ve got a long way to go. I’ve got plans.”

Blaine grinned. “You can bill me when it’s done.”

“It might be a pretty big sum.”

Blaine shrugged. “We’ll figure something out.”

Kurt leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk. “I’m sure we will.”


	14. Chapter 14

Kurt and Blaine chatted for the next forty minutes or so, all of their topics much lighter than what they’d started out with. Kurt tried to multitask and do paperwork for his dad while talking, but only ended up filling out two and a half forms. Eventually, Burt walked back into the office.

“Your tires are all finished,” he told Blaine. “I can ring you up if you come into the garage.”

“Okay,” Blaine said, slipping his jacket back on. He turned to Kurt. “I’ll see you later?”

Kurt smiled up at him. “Yeah. I’ll text you.”

“Great,” Blaine said, smiling back.

Kurt waved at them as they left the office. He turned back to the form in front of him, and began filling in vehicle codes again.

About five minutes later, his phone vibrated. Picking it up from where it lay on the desk, Kurt saw that he had a new text from Blaine. Curious, he opened it.

_I was just invited to dinner at your house._

Kurt’s jaw fell open slightly. He rapidly texted back.

_What do you mean?_

The reply from Blaine arrived quickly.

_Your father invited me to dinner tomorrow. I’ll be there at_ _6:30_ _._

Kurt didn’t even bother replying. Leaving his phone and the paperwork behind, he walked out of the office and into the garage. His father was leaning over the hood of an SUV.

“Dad!” he called.

“Hmm?” Burt mumbled, not looking up.

“Did you just  _invite_ _Blaine_ _to dinner?_ ”

At that, Burt did look up. He smiled. “That was quick. You boys really do talk a lot, don’t you?”

Kurt ignored that, walking towards his father. “Why did you do that?”

“Why not?” Burt asked, glancing down at the car’s engine again. “He seemed like a good kid. You two were getting along. He seemed to like the idea.”

“Dad, you can’t just  _do_  that.”

Burt raised an eyebrow at his son. “I’m sorry. Don’t you like Blaine?”

“I-No, I-yes, of course I do.” Kurt stammered. “He’s my friend. But that doesn’t mean you can just have him over for dinner, it’s-“

“We’ve had plenty of your friends over to our house,” Burt pointed out calmly.

“Yes, but this is  _different_.”

“How so?”

Kurt opened his mouth, but found that he didn’t actually have an answer. Burt smiled. “I thought you said Blaine was just a _friend_ ,” Burt said.

“He is,” Kurt insisted, exasperated.

“Then it shouldn’t be a big deal. I want to meet the kid you’re hanging out with.”

“You haven’t met all my New York friends,” Kurt argued.

“Well, if they’re ever in the area, they’re welcome to come over.”

Kurt sighed, crossing his arms. “Fine,” he said. “Blaine is coming over tomorrow. But  _I_  am cooking, got it?”

Burt smiled, looking rather smug. “Whatever you want, son.”

Huffing, Kurt turned on his heel and left the building.

 

 

 

Blaine called Maia that night from his dorm room.

“Hello?”

“Hey, beautiful.”

Usually that sort of comment warranted a breathy laugh from Maia. Blaine heard nothing.

“Hey. What’s up?”

Blaine lay back onto his bed, which was relatively made. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Okay.”

“How are you?” Blaine asked.

Maia sighed. “I’m tired. I’m stressed out. My parents are pissing me off. I’ve got two lectures tomorrow and a presentation.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well.” Maia said, her tone irritated. “I appreciate it, but there’s not much you can do.”

“Do you want me to bring you chocolate?”

Maia’s tone was much softer. “No. Thank you, but I just need to focus.”

Blaine stared at his ceiling. “Do you want me to hang up?”

“No,” Maia said quickly. “Just…talk to me for a few minutes. Please.”

“Of course.”

“What’d you do today?” she asked.

Blaine held his hand out in front of him, making a faint shadow on the ceiling in the dying sunlight. “Went to classes. Got my tires rotated. Worked on an essay.”

“Sounds like a pretty boring day.”

Blaine shrugged, although she couldn’t see it. “Not every day can be an adventure,” he reasoned.

“I guess,” she answered. “Hey, I’m super busy tomorrow, but can we do something together sometime soon?”

Blaine licked his lips. “Yeah, of course. I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“So, Wednesday?”

Blaine thought for a moment. For some reason, excuses were racing through his mind. But why would he need an excuse? “Maybe,” he settled on. “I’ll let you know. My paper is due on Thursday, so I might have to work on it.”

“Okay. But soon, yeah?”

“Of course.”

Maia sighed. “Great. I should really go, now. I lo-“ she paused. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye,” Blaine said. They hung up.

Blaine dropped his phone onto the bedspread beside him. He took a deep breath, but no matter how much air he sucked in, he couldn’t seem to fill his lungs. He simply felt hollow.

Instead of getting up and working more on his essay, he lay on his bed and made shadows on the ceiling with his hands until long past it was dark outside.

 

 

 

Kurt stayed up late Googling recipes for dinner. When his father asked what he was doing, Kurt lied and claimed he was checking for open auditions for when he got back to New York. He could tell his dad was already suspicious of his relationship with Blaine, and Kurt didn’t want to give him more reason to tease. After all, there was nothing between them.

Kurt just sort of wanted dinner to be perfect.

Kurt knew that Blaine was pretty well off-he had a nice car and didn’t seem to have a job, which implied that his parents were paying for all his expenses. The way that Blaine had described them, anyway, made them seem like the sort of snooty and wealthy type. Kurt loved his family and his house, but he knew Blaine was probably used to a nicer place. These thoughts ran through Kurt’s head as he scanned recipe after recipe.

Finally he closed his laptop and took a deep breath. As he washed his face before bed, he spoke to himself in the mirror.

“Blaine is your friend. He’s clearly comfortable around you. Coming over to your house will not change that. It’s not a big deal. Dad and Carole are great and he will love them. Dinner will be fine because you are cooking it and you are brilliant.”

He stared at his damp face for a second. “Now stop talking to yourself before Carole comes in and thinks you’re schizophrenic.”

 

 

 

Kurt got up the next day, had breakfast, and then headed for the grocery store. He was fairly certain of what he was going to make for dinner. He sent Blaine a text asking whether he had any allergies Kurt should be aware of( _Just cat dander_ , Blaine had replied, _but I hope you’re not putting that in the food anyway_.).

Burt was home for most of the day. He watched Kurt with raised eyebrows as he whizzed around the house, straightening things up. He was already setting up ingredients and beginning to cook at four-thirty. Two hours later, when the table was set and the food was nearly done, the doorbell rang. Kurt heard his father start to get up from the couch, but yelled, “I’ll get it!” to stop him. He pulled off his apron, walked to the front door, and took a deep breath. He opened the door.

Blaine stood on the porch, smiling. “Good evening,” he greeted Kurt.

Kurt bit his lip and ordered himself to calm down. “Come in,” he said, opening the door wider.


	15. Chapter 15

Kurt ushered Blaine into his house and helped him take off his coat. “Dinner’s nearly ready,” he said.

“Great,” Blaine replied, smiling widely.

Kurt had debated showing Blaine into the living room first so he could properly unveil the meal, but then decided against leaving Blaine alone in a room with his dad. For all he knew, Burt would give some sort of outrageous and threatening ‘if-you-hurt-my-son’ talk. No matter how many times Kurt assured his father that he and Blaine were just friends, Burt seemed to have a small smile that revealed his doubt about it. Kurt led Blaine into the kitchen, just to be safe.

“You can sit down,” Kurt instructed as he cracked open the oven to check the entrée.

“You’re cooking?” Blaine asked, mildly surprised. Then he laughed. “I should have known, what with your expertise on tomatoes.”

Kurt smiled. “I’m an expert with  _many_  foods.”

“Then I’m in for a treat, aren’t I?”

“Indeed you are.”

Carole walked into the kitchen. “Kurt, when-“ she broke off when she saw Blaine sitting at the table. “Oh, hello!”

Blaine stood and extended his hand to her. “Hi! I’m Blaine Anderson.”

Carole smiled. “I’m Carole. It’s nice to finally meet you, Blaine.”

At the word ‘finally,’ Blaine’s eyes flickered to Kurt. Kurt quickly turned away and began wiping down the cutting board.  _Finally?_  That quite clearly implies that Kurt’s been talking about Blaine. Kurt could feel his face and neck reddening, and hoped he could attribute it to the warmth in the kitchen.

Burt, too, entered the kitchen. He said hello to Blaine, and Blaine responded that it was ‘a pleasure to meet again.’ Blaine always seemed so formal and polite. It wasn’t a  _bad_  thing, but Kurt noticed that it appeared to be a sort of façade. Blaine wasn’t perfectly proper when it was just the two of them talking. Only around other people.

They’d all sat down and Blaine was commenting on what a nice house the Hummels had(“This table is gorgeous,” he gushed. Blaine was a professional gusher. “Thank you!” Carole replied. “It’s mahogany!”), when Kurt placed down all the food. Wild rice with lemon, chicken breast with chives, and a salad decorated the tabletop. Kurt sat down and began serving food.

“This is incredible,” Blaine said, sounding astonished, as he took his first bites. “Kurt, you’re amazing.”

Everyone laughed. Burt and Carole, too, expressed their appreciation of the meal. Then, after a slight pause where everyone simply enjoyed their food, Carole spoke again.

“So, Blaine, you’re going to college here?”

Blaine launched into explaining his college life in Lima, detailing the classes he took and what majors he was looking at. Kurt smirked when Blaine caught his eye, and Blaine nodded back, acknowledging that he was rambling about school. Kurt stayed quiet as Burt and Carole asked various questions of Blaine. Kurt noticed how great Blaine was at holding up a conversation-he eloquently responded to all of the questions, sometimes gracefully avoiding answers he didn’t want to give and redirecting the discussion, and easily weaving in compliments and inquiries of his own toward the other person. It was almost artful. However, Kurt noticed something else, too. While his own conversations with Blaine had sometimes stuttered and gone off course and been peppered with silences, he’d always looked so engaged. His eyes had always lit up and he listened to Kurt or thought up a response. When Blaine spoke to Kurt’s parents, though, it seemed as though he had a mask. Like he was on autopilot, just making conversation because he was supposed to, not because anything he said mattered. Kurt chewed his food, observing and thinking.

Everything was going great, so far. Conversation was flowing, the food was delicious, they laughed and smiled constantly. Until Carole asked Blaine, “Do you like Lima? You think you’ll stay here?”

Blaine shrugged. “It’s a nice enough town. I might have to transfer to another campus, though, to complete my major.”

“Oh,” Carole said. “Is that difficult to do?”

Blaine swallowed some rice, shaking his head. “No, not really. I haven’t looked into the details too much, but my girlfriend, Maia, has researched it a bit more.”

Carole didn’t respond. When Blaine had said ‘my girlfriend,’ both Burt and Carole had turned to Kurt quickly, surprised, before turning back. Kurt’s face burned, his thoughts racing. Blaine raised his eyebrow at the silence. Kurt cursed his parents for not believing him when he’d explained that he and Blaine were only friends. He hadn’t exactly told them about the  _girlfriend_ , per se. It would have been rock-hard evidence against any of their suspicions, but…for some reason, Kurt had never brought it up. He tried not to think about the shameful, guilty feeling he got when he thought about Blaine’s girlfriend. He didn’t know what it meant and he didn’t want to.

“Anyway,” Blaine said, finally breaking the silence. “I will miss Lima. It’s a nice little town.”

Carole then began chattering about how she, too, liked the town, and how she’d moved to it in the first place. Kurt stared resolutely at his mostly-empty plate, hoping that Blaine couldn’t see his reddened face. He wondered what Blaine was thinking, but was also scared to know. Suddenly, he felt as though the dinner was a disaster.

When they’d all finished, Burt glanced at the clock on the wall above the sink. “Well,” he said. “You’ll have to excuse me, but there’s a Browns game that’ll be starting in a few minutes…”

Kurt rolled his eyes as his father stood up. “I’ll get the dishes,” Kurt offered.

“Let me help!” Blaine said, standing up.

“No, you’re a guest.”

“Please, I can’t stand by and not do anything,” he insisted.

Raising an eyebrow, Kurt nodded. “Okay.”

Carole went out to the living room to join Burt, and the two boys gathered up dishes from the table.

“So,” Kurt said as he rinsed a plate off, trying to rally what had so far been a less than satisfactory evening. “You told me you’re twenty, right?”

Blaine took the plate from him, loading it into the dishwasher. “Yeah.”

“Hmm.”

Blaine cocked an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing,” Kurt said lightly, handing him a serving bowl.

“No, not nothing. Why’d you ask?”

“Just curious. You’re not of the legal drinking age.”

Blaine narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Okay, where is this going?”

Kurt set down a handful of silverware and looked Blaine in the eye. “You want to experience more things, right? I mean, besides school. All you do is school. I just…had an idea to help you put yourself out there more. Or something.”

Blaine grinned slightly. “And what exactly is this idea?”

“Well…how do you feel about karaoke?”

 

Blaine left within a half-hour, after finishing the dishes, sitting in on some of the football game Burt was watching, and making plans with Kurt. The next night they were going to karaoke night at a local bar. Blaine was still a bit unsure about the whole thing, but Kurt had goaded him enough to get him to try. Kurt wiped down the table after Blaine left, humming to himself. He opted out of watching football and instead went upstairs to his room, skipping up the stairs and trying to ignore the list of flirty duets that was flickering through his mind.


	16. Chapter 16

Blaine arrived at Kurt’s house the next night at seven-thirty. He’d spent the whole day with a nervous energy coursing through him, anxious about the upcoming night with Kurt. He was excited to spend more time with his new friend, but worried about stepping out of his comfort zone.  _But that’s the whole point, isn’t it?_  He said to himself as he drove up to Kurt’s house.

He rang the doorbell and Kurt answered the door. He looked flustered, a rosy tinge to his cheeks, his breath a bit faster than average. He smiled right away when he saw Blaine, if a bit bashfully. Blaine answered in turn with a wide grin.

“Come in,” Kurt said, opening the door wider. “I’m sorry, I’m not ready at all yet.”

“That’s fine,” Blaine replied, entering the house and taking off his jacket. Kurt helped him hang it up. “No hurry.”

“I lost track of time,” Kurt explained, leading the way towards the stairs. “I was helping Carole set up this scrapbooking software on her laptop. She’s kind of hopeless.”

Blaine chuckled. “Really, it’s not a big deal.”

Kurt flashed him a smile. “Great. I just need to pick out another outfit. Do you, um…you can come up with me, if you don’t want to hang out down here with my parents.”

Ignoring the semi-awkward stumble, Blaine nodded his agreement. “Sure.”

He followed Kurt upstairs and into the second door on the left. Kurt walked in and sort of stood in the middle, waiting for Blaine, watching him.

Blaine glanced around the room. The whole area was done in varying shades of blue and green, nearly every bit of furniture and decoration complimentary. It still managed to retain a homey feeling, though. Framed photos of Kurt and other people at varying ages were hung around the room, along with posters from Broadway musicals and various movies. It was tidy except for the desk, where a plethora of sheet music was laid out, along with a laptop and a pair of iPod speakers.

Once Blaine had finished his perfunctory examination of the room, his eyes landed on Kurt again. He smiled.

Kurt looked slightly relieved. “Make yourself at home,” he said, gesturing around aimlessly. “Gosh, I should have offered you a drink, or something-anyway, I’ll be quick. Sit down, if you want.”

Blaine followed orders, taking a seat in the comfortable rolling chair that stood near the desk. Kurt opened his closet and began rapidly pulling out items of clothing, as though he’d already known what he was going to wear. Blaine wasn’t surprised. Suddenly he wondered whether he should have deviated from his normal blue jeans, button-up and sweater. He hadn’t considered other options before, but in Kurt’s presence he doubted himself slightly. Kurt was just so  _artful_  when it came to clothing, where as Blaine was…not.

Kurt excused himself and headed into the bathroom attached to the room. Blaine examined the sheet music on the desk more closely, but didn’t recognize any of it. Not that he had much experience in musical theater, anyway. Or any at all.

Kurt emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later wearing tight jeans, a light button-up shirt, a dark blazer and a scarf. Before leaving the room, he added the finishing touch to his outfit-his trademark white boots.

“I thought it would be easier if we carpooled,” Kurt explained as they headed back downstairs. “In my experience, the fewer cars you take to a bar, the better.”

Blaine’s thoughts lingered for a moment on Kurt’s words.  _In my experience_. Blaine wondered what sort of ‘experience’ Kurt had with bars and cars and late-night adventures. He felt an unexpected pang of jealousy. “Yeah,” he responded. “That’s fine. You want to drive?”

Kurt flashed him a bright smile, opening the door for him. “I’d love to.”

 

 

The bar was called Yesterday’s, and it was in downtown Lima. Blaine brought the fake I.D. that he’d gotten from a friend his senior year of high school, not that the doorman actually checked either of their I.D.’s. Blaine idly pondered how much illegal drinking he could be getting away with if he wanted to.

Kurt told Blaine that he’d been there a couple times before, and had seen a poster for karaoke night while driving by a few days ago. Kurt led the way through the restaurant crowd into the back, which sported a long, dark wood bar, many tables of varying sizes, and a large stage against one wall, with huge speakers on each side that were currently playing classic rock. Blaine swallowed, already feeling nervous.

“You want a drink?” Kurt asked as they sat down at a small table against the wall adjacent to the stage. “I’ll buy you something.”

Blaine considered. He’d been to a couple of house parties in high school and college where’d he’d drank, but never to excess. He didn’t like the idea of not being in control. Being drunk meant that he couldn’t control the weight, couldn’t successfully maneuver himself through interactions with other people. It scared him.

Then again, he’d basically agreed to  _sing_  in front of a  _crowd_  tonight. He was already jittery just at the thought. When weighing that against potential drunken discomfort, he opted for the latter. “Yeah, sure.”

Kurt headed for the bar. Blaine observed the crowd while he waited. It was mostly a younger crowd. He actually recognized a couple of TA’s from some of his classes. He tapped his fingers on the table. This was a bad idea.

Kurt returned with a beer and some sort of cocktail. “I didn’t know what you wanted,” he said apologetically, sitting down. “I got beer.”

“This is fine,” Blaine replied, taking the bottle from him. “I’m not exactly an expert when it comes to booze.”

Kurt laughed. “Nor am I. Well, not an expert. I am acquainted with the substance.”

Blaine smiled, taking a sip from the bottle. He’d drank beer before, typically from plastic cups, procured form a keg. He found that it tasted considerably better out of a bottle. “What’re you drinking?” he asked.

“Vodka and tonic,” he said, holding up the clear glass. “But if you’re not experienced, you should probably stay away from the hard stuff.”

Blaine rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Mom.”

Kurt smiled over his drink. “Just being responsible.”

“Says the boy who just bought someone underage alcohol.”

“I’ve got to pick my battles.”

Blaine drank more of his beer, grinning widely. He was about to respond, teasing Kurt more, when their banter was interrupted.

“All right, boys and girls, welcome to Karaoke Night at Yesterday’s!”

A man was now on the stage, holding a microphone. At his announcement, a general cheer went up. Clearly, karaoke night was popular among the regulars. Blaine felt his apprehension creep back up.

The first participant was a guy who looked like he was just out of high school. He was also clearly tipsy. However, his rendition of Viva La Vida wasn’t half bad. A couple less-impressive acts followed his. Kurt and Blaine watched and applauded, and continued to chat throughout the songs. Blaine focused on his conversation with Kurt and tried to ignore everything else.

Blaine had nearly finished his beer by the end of the third act. Kurt looked up at the now bare stage, and then back to Blaine. He smiled, drained the remaining liquid in his glass, and stood. “I’ll be back,” he said.

“Where are you going?”

Kurt laughed. “To perform, silly!”

Blaine nodded, biting his lip slightly. He watched Kurt climb the stairs to the stage, whisper into the DJ’s ear, and then retrieve the microphone from its stand.

Kurt smiled out into the audience. He looked so right, up there in front of everyone. He demanded attention, even before he sang anything. He was made to perform, you could just tell. It was entrancing.

The music began, a tune that sounded vaguely familiar to Blaine. After a short intro, Kurt opened his mouth and began to sing. “ _Here we go again, I kinda wanna be more than friends_ …”


	17. Chapter 17

Kurt killed his performance. Blaine watched, captivated, as Kurt belted out Animal by Neon Trees. He was playful, almost seductive at times, and unbelievably talented throughout. Blaine wondered what it was like to be able to open yourself up like that so easily. To just sing and trust that you were going to be good.

Kurt got the most applause yet, and one table full of drunken twenty-somethings cheered out for an encore. Kurt waved to them, calling out, “More later on!”

He rejoined Blaine at their table, his face slightly flushed, a smile plastered on his face.

“You were fantastic,” Blaine said simply.

Kurt’s smile softened, becoming personal, directed solely at Blaine. “Thanks,” he said softly.

They were both quiet for a moment as the next singer-a woman, one of the older patrons in the crowd-set up. Kurt stood then. “I’m getting another drink. You want something?”

Blaine nodded. “Can I try liquor? I promise, I won’t puke in your car.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Everyone who has ever puked in my car has said that first.”

“Do a lot of people vomit in your car?”

“Well, it just happened once. But still.”

Blaine laughed. “I’ll break the streak.”

Kurt headed towards the bar and returned, this time with two glasses of clear liquid. They toasted eachother. “To a good crowd,” Kurt said as they clinked glasses.

Blaine shuddered as the alcohol hit his throat, but forced himself to swallow it. He wasn’t about to make a fool of himself in front of Kurt. Plus, he was already feeling pleasantly lightheaded from the beer he’d consumed-his mood was bound to improve with more booze. That’s how it worked, right?

“When are you going to go up there?” Kurt asked.

Blaine swirled the liquid in his glass around, not looking up. “I don’t know.”

“It’s really fun,” Kurt assured him.

“Maybe for you,” Blaine muttered.

“What?” The woman singing Destiny’s Child was hard to hear over.

“In a bit!” Blaine responded before taking another sip of vodka.

 

Kurt was in the bathroom and Blaine was watching the people at the bar and feeling comfortably relaxed when he felt his phone vibrate.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Hey, Blaine.” It was Maia.

“Hey,” Blaine said. “What’s up?”

“Where are you?” Maia asked instead of answering Blaine. Blaine opened his mouth to answer without being quite sure what he was going to say. His first instinct was to lie, but he silently chastised himself. Why on Earth would he need to lie to Maia? “In a bar.”

“A  _bar_?” Maia repeated, incredulous. For some reason, Blaine felt slightly offended.

“Yes. I’m with Kurt.”

“Oh.” Maia’s reply was curt. “I thought we were going to go out tonight?”

Blaine wracked his brain, and then remembered their conversation from the other day. He wasn’t the kind of person who forgot obligations. “Oh, right. I’m sorry, Maia. It’s just that we never talked about it today, and Kurt invited me out last night…”

“You were talking to him last night?”

Blaine decided that perhaps he shouldn’t mention that he’d been talking with Kurt because he’d been having dinner at his house. For some reason, Maia didn’t seem to like Kurt. She didn’t understand that Kurt was almost as good for Blaine as  _she_  was. How could he make her understand that? “Yeah. He’s really great, Maia. Like, he’s a friend of mine. You two should really meet.” He added the last bit on a whim, without thinking about it.

Maia sighed on the other side of the phone. “Right. I should meet this mysterious Kurt. Blaine, I thought that we were going to see eachother tonight.”

“I’m really sorry. I just thought you were busy. And Kurt-“

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” She interrupted. “Can’t you come over now though?”

Blaine couldn’t help himself-he laughed slightly at the suggestion. “Maia, I’m already with Kurt. I can’t just ditch him.”

“You mean like you ditched me?”

“Maia, I didn’t ditch you! We didn’t even make plans. I’m not going to leave Kurt now. I have an obligation to him and I’m gonna honor that.”

Maia scoffed. “Right. You’re just fucking great at honoring obligations.”

“Maia, don’t-“

“I’ll talk to you later, Blaine.”

And she hung up. Blaine stared at his phone, at a loss. He looked up and saw Kurt returning from the direction of the bathroom. Quickly, he opened up a new text message to Maia.

_I’m sorry about the misunderstanding. I’ll call you later, we can make plans. <3 _ _Blaine_

He sent it, and then smiled up at Kurt as he sat down again, slipping his phone away.

 

 

It was an hour and three vodkas later when Kurt asked again. “You should sing soon!” He urged.

Kurt had already done one encore performance of a Maroon 5 song. It had been just as brilliant as his last performance. He was setting the bar pretty high for Blaine, who hadn’t sung outside of his shower since the third grade.

However, as Blaine finished his most recent drink, he was feeling a bit better about the whole idea. Not everyone who went on stage was as good as Kurt-not even close, actually. But the audience cheered anyway, seeming to appreciate anyone with the audacity to get up and sing. Blaine looked at the cubes of ice in his now-empty glass. Ice seemed a lot more fascinating than it had thirty minutes ago.

“I’ll tell you what,” Kurt said suddenly, leaning over the table so that he was only inches from Blaine’s face. “If you go up and sing a song, then we can do a duet together afterwards.”

“A duet?” Blaine asked.

“Yeah!” Kurt exclaimed. Blaine smiled-the enthusiasm was contagious. “We’ll sing a song together! But first you sing.”

Blaine thought it over for a moment, swaying slightly in his chair. Then he banged his glass down onto the table. “Yeah!” he said. “What the hell, yeah, I’ll do it!”

Kurt grinned back wildly. Blaine stood and walked over to the DJ just as the previous act was finishing.

The rather bored-looking DJ asked what song Blaine wanted. Blaine said the first thing that popped into his head, something Maia had put on a mix CD for him recently. He walked up the stairs, stumbling slightly, and got on stage.

He knew that the bar was rather loud with chatter and other various noises, but it seemed to him that the only sounds in the whole room were his heartbeat and his footsteps on the wooden stage. There was a dim spotlight that he stepped into. As he turned out to face the crowd, he saw that most of them were hard to see, blurred by the light in his face and his own inebriation. Not being able to see their faces didn’t particularly help the unsettling feeling that was taking over his stomach, however. An abstract audience is an audience still.

Then he turned to his left, feeling desperate, and his eyes landed on Kurt’s face, strangely clear among the hazy room. Kurt was smiling brightly, encouragingly.

And Blaine knew he’d be okay.

The music must have started a few seconds prior. Blaine tore his gaze from Kurt just in time to realize that his cue was coming up.

“ _Your lipstick stains, on the front lobe of my left-side brains…I knew I wouldn’t forget you, and so I went and let you blow my mind_ …”

As the song began there was already some clapping from fans of the song. Blaine stumbled his way through the first verse, and then hit his stride. It really wasn’t that hard at all. The lyrics were coming out of his mouth before he could even consciously think of them. His singing wasn’t top-notch, but it wasn’t half bad either. And whenever he felt unsure of himself, he’d glance over to Kurt, who was still smiling widely, and he’d get right back on track.

“ _Hey, soul sister, I don’t wanna miss a single thing you do…tonight_.”

Blaine completed the song and was met with quite a bit of applause. He could pick out Kurt’s cheers above the others. Grinning, he bowed slightly, almost tripping, and then made his way off stage. He sat back down at the table.

“You were great!” Kurt told him.

Blaine began laughing. Once he started it was hard to stop. “Oh my God,” he said between giggles. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

Kurt joined in on his laughter. “You’re a star in the making!” he insisted. “I’m buying another round for the most talented table in this whole fucking bar!” he exclaimed, standing to head back to the bar. Blaine watched him bob and weave between other customers, still letting out chuckles. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so carefree.

 

It seemed as though the more he drank, the better alcohol tasted. Blaine idly wondered whether this was a bad thing, but his thought was interrupted when Kurt pulled him from his seat abruptly. “Let’s sing together!” he said, pulling Blaine towards the stage.

There was some slight confusion about the song(“You know Hey Monday, right?” Kurt asked insistently. They were very close to eachother. The DJ was rolling his eyes.), but they got it figured out and were eventually standing on the stage together, someone having procured another microphone for their duet.

It was a slow song, and Blaine did indeed know most of the lyrics(well, he thought he did, but he stumbled over more than he expected. That might have been the booze, though). They started on opposite sides of the stage.

Kurt sang first. “ _The power lines went out, and I am all alone, but I don’t really care at all, not answering my phone_ …”

He turned to Blaine, signaling that it was his turn. Almost forgetting to hold the mic to his mouth, Blaine picked up where Kurt had left off. “ _All the games you played, the promises you made, couldn’t finish what you started, only darkness still remains_ …”

Then they sang the chorus together. Blaine looked out to the audience, but found that his eyes were drawn back to Kurt. Even when they were both on stage, Kurt commanded Blaine’s attention. It was fascinating, really.

Time seemed to pass irregularly, and suddenly they were singing the last line of the song together, much closer than they’d started out. They sang to eachother more than to the crowd, and as they both belted out “ _but I think I’ll be alright…_ ”(Blaine slightly off-key, he could tell), they were only four or five inches apart from eachother. The music faded away, and for a slim moment there was silence. A perfect picturebook second where there was no noise Blaine could hear but Kurt’s breath and his own, the spotlight shining off of Kurt’s light skin, his eyelashes casting shadows down his cheeks, his pupils dilated from alcohol and adrenaline.

Then there was clapping. The two boys stumbled off stage, victorious. They sat down at their table and finished their drinks, but then decided to leave. They’d gotten everything they needed out of their night.


	18. Chapter 18

They stumbled outside, Kurt partially supporting Blaine. His mind was cloudy not only with booze but also with a post-performance buzz and the bubbling euphoria that came with being so physically close to Blaine. Their entire sides touched, Blaine leaning heavily against Kurt.

“Fuck,” Kurt muttered as they got into the parking lot. “I can’t drive.”

Blaine seemed to find this outrageously funny, guffawing loudly, his body shaking against Kurt. It was rather distracting.

Kurt pulled out his cell phone and called a cab, trying not to slur as he spoke. Blaine smiled up at him when he hung up. “That was really fun,” Blaine said.

“I know.”

“I’ve never sung in front of people before. Or done anything in front of people.”

Kurt nodded. “You were amazing, though.”

“Not as good as you.”

Kurt laughed. “No, not quite. But good for a beginner.”

“No one in there was as good as you.”

Kurt hoped Blaine couldn’t see his blush in the darkness.

The taxi arrived within a few minutes. Kurt stumbled towards it, leading Blaine. Blaine was laughing again.

“I didn’t even know there _were_ taxis in Lima,” he told Kurt.

Kurt rolled his eyes, opening the car door and helping Blaine inside. He slid in next, with a bit more force than he meant to, and sort of crashed into Blaine. Trying not to giggle, he leaned forward and gave the cab driver his address.

They were seated at each end of the backseat, with the middle seat empty between them. Kurt tried to ignore the longing that he had to breach the space, intensified by the alcohol running through his blood. He thought about how easy it would be to just reach over and put his hand on Blaine’s knee. Or lean and rest his head on the boy’s shoulder. Blaine’s hair was messier than usual, truly curly now. His face was flushed, his eyes wide. Kurt could smell his sweat and cologne. It felt tortuous to be so close, and yet so far away.

The taxi pulled up to Kurt’s house and Kurt paid, then opened the door. The blast of cooler, fresh air was startling. Blaine didn’t seem particularly capable of successful conversation, so Kurt spoke for him.

“He needs to be dropped off at the OSU dorms,” he told the cabbie. He turned to Blaine then. “Do you have your wallet?”

Blaine stuck his hand into each of his pockets clumsily. He found nothing. “Um,” he said. “I think I left it in your car.”

Kurt swore, trying to think. He didn’t have much more cash on him, what with all the drinks he’d bought. “Fine, okay. Just get out with me.”

He pulled Blaine out of the cab, helping to steady him once he was outside. The taxi drove off, leaving them alone in front of the darkened house.

Kurt half-dragged Blaine up the driveway and unlocked the door. “I can’t see,” Blaine complained loudly once they were inside.

“Shh!” Kurt chastised him. He didn’t want to wake up his poor parents. He grabbed Blaine by the elbow and led him upstairs, the two of them tripping occasionally. They made it to Kurt’s room and Kurt flicked on the light. They stood still for a moment, blinking in the sudden brightness.

Blaine let go of Kurt, leaving him at the door, and walked to Kurt’s bed. He turned around and sat down heavily, bouncing slightly. He smiled. “What now?”

Kurt laughed quietly. “Now it’s bedtime.”

Blaine pursed his lips, and Kurt tried not to stare at them. “But what if I’m not tired?”

“Too bad. You’re staying with me and I say it’s time for sleeping. You’ll thank me in the morning.”

Blaine still looked skeptical, but he leaned back onto the bed and spread his arms out. “Well…okay. Bed might not be so bad.”

Kurt took a moment to rake his eyes up and down Blaine’s figure laid out on his bedspread, looking very disheveled and sexy. His shirt and sweater had ridden up, exposing a sliver of golden skin above the waistband of his jeans, his hipbones peeking out, lines of skin and bone and muscle sloping down…

Kurt shook his head.  _Girlfriend_ , he thought murkily.  _Straight. Just friends_.

“I’ll get you something to wear,” Kurt offered, distracting himself. He headed to his closet, pulling out two pairs of sweatpants and tossing one at Blaine. Blaine started when they hit his chest, then laughed. “That scared me.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. He couldn’t help but laugh too, though. “You’re drunk, Blaine.”

“I know,” the curly-haired boy answered, picking up the pants and examining them. “It’s nice.”

“Isn’t it?”

Blaine headed into the bathroom and Kurt changed in his absence, pulling on the sweats and finding an old shirt to wear. He knew it wasn’t his most alluring outfit, but he also knew that they were both too drunk for it to matter. He began rifling through his closet for extra pillows.

When Kurt heard the bathroom door open, he turned to see Blaine, and gulped. The boy had indeed put on Kurt’s sleep pants, which rode low on his hips and gave Kurt the same nice view he’d admired earlier…but it got better. Blaine had taken off his shirt, exposing his chest, defined stomach muscles and dusting of dark curly hair and his collarbones and shoulders and…

Kurt realized belatedly that he was staring. And probably drooling.

“Um,” Kurt stammered, trying to catch his train of thought before it had taken a lustful turn. “You, um, you can sleep in here, in the bed.”

Blaine smiled. “Good.” He crossed the room to Kurt bed, eyeing it hesitantly before pulling back the covers and beginning to slip in. Kurt swallowed, knowing that his attraction was amplified by the alcohol, and decided he needed to get out of the room soon. He finally found a pillow. He turned towards the door. “Goodnight, Blaine,” he said quickly, and reached for the doorknob.

“Where are you going?”

Kurt paused, turning back to see Blaine laid out on the bed, an expression of puzzlement on his gorgeous face. “Downstairs,” Kurt said. “I’m sleeping on the couch.”

The rift between Blaine’s eyebrows deepened. “Why?”

“So you can have my bed.”

Blaine bit his lip. Kurt took a deep breath. “But…” Blaine said slowly. “I don’t want you to have to sleep on the couch. I’ll sleep there.”

“No, no,” Kurt answered slowly. “I just…don’t want my parents to wake up and find a strange man sleeping on their couch before I can explain it to them.”

Blaine smiled slightly. “Are you calling me strange?”

Kurt couldn’t help but smile back. “No. You know what I mean.”

“Your parents know who I am.” Blaine pointed out. He was surprisingly logical for being smashed.

“Yeah, I know, but…” Kurt found he couldn’t really rebut that. “You’re a guest. You get the bed.”

Blaine shook his head. “No. Stay.”

“With you?”

“Yeah, there’s room.”

Kurt sighed internally. It was so tempting to turn around and join Blaine-beautiful, funny, adorable, sexy, half-naked Blaine-in his bed. But was that okay?

“Please, Kurt,” Blaine said earnestly.

And Kurt broke. He couldn’t help it. He left the door behind and approached the bed.

“That’s better,” Blaine said, smiling. Kurt smiled back nervously.

“Let me turn off the lights.”

Kurt plunged them back into darkness, leaving them blind for a few more moments. Kurt felt his way to the bed and crawled into it, letting the drunken haze he’d been holding at bay fill his mind so it would block out the voices in his head telling him all the reasons this was an awful idea.

“Hi,” Kurt heard Blaine say, close and quiet and breathy.

“Hey,” Kurt responded in turn.

“I like your bed. It’s comfy.”

“Thank you.”

Blaine’s face was slowly coming into focus, standing out against the surrounding darkness. Blaine spoke again. “I like your room, too.”

“Really?” Kurt asked.

“Yeah,” Blaine answered sincerely. “It’s so  _you_. It’s like it says  _Kurt_  everywhere. On the walls and in the closet and on the desk and…everywhere.”

Kurt smiled giddily. “That’s silly, Blaine.”

“I don’t care. It’s true.”

They were quiet for a moment. “Thank you,” Blaine whispered. “Thank you, Kurt.”

Kurt couldn’t quite tell what he was talking about. “You’re welcome,” he said cluelessly.

“No,” Blaine said, and then he propped himself up on his elbow so that his face was above Kurt’s. “I mean it. Thank you for tonight, for the drinks and the singing and the duet and the taxi and everything.”

“You’re welcome,” Kurt repeated, his chest slightly constricted.

“I’ve never done stuff like that,” Blaine went on. “And I never would have if it weren’t for you.”

“Blaine, don’t say that, that’s-“

“Shh,” Blaine interrupted. “I mean it.”

Kurt blinked up at the boy. “Okay.”

Blaine settled onto his back then, seemingly content with the response. Kurt stared at his ceiling and wondered how he’d gotten himself into this twisted unrequited crush situation again.

Blaine, who seemed to become very talkative when drunk, muttered, “Kurt, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

Blaine paused before speaking. “How do you know when you’re in love?”

Kurt sighed, his eyes flickering over to Blaine’s form lying only inches away from him. “I think it’s just…something you know, Blaine. A gut feeling. Once it happens, you know about it.”

“Hmm,” Blaine sounded resigned. “I was afraid of that.”

Kurt laughed softly. “Why?”

Blaine was quiet for so long that Kurt thought he hadn’t heard, or was just ignoring it. Kurt could tell he hadn’t fallen asleep yet, though. Finally, he said, “Because that means that I don’t love my girlfriend.”

“Ahh,” Kurt answered, his stomach twisting unpleasantly. He attributed this to the drinking.

“But she loves me.”

“Does she?” Kurt hadn’t even meant to say it out loud, but once he had he didn’t even care anymore. What did it matter?

“That’s what she says,” Blaine mumbled.

“People don’t always understand their feelings,” Kurt said, closing his eyes.

“You’re right,” Blaine replied. “They don’t.”

Kurt took a deep breath. Suddenly he was inexplicably exhausted. “Goodnight, Blaine.” It was the second time he’d said it that night, but this time it seemed to carry more weight.

“Goodnight, Kurt. Sweet dreams.”

Kurt smiled slightly. How could he not have sweet dreams, with a beautiful boy lying next to him?


	19. Chapter 19

“Kurt!”

Kurt shifted slightly, refusing to open his eyes. He was cocooned in his comforter and his pillow was wonderfully soft against his softly throbbing head. He could vaguely hear footsteps on the stairs, but tried to ignore them. He was very content to lie here and go back to sleep. He felt pleasantly warm and there was a scent that drifted around him that he couldn’t quite place, but it was extremely comforting.

“Kurt!” He heard his name again, this time closer to him. He groaned slightly. He was going to have to open his eyes, wasn’t he?

And what was that sound near him? It sounded like…breathing.

There was a knock on the door. Kurt opened his dry mouth, but no sound came out. The insistent knocking made him feel like someone was pounding on his head.

The door creaked open. “Kurt, can you help me? I can’t-“

Burt’s voice cut off suddenly. Kurt reluctantly opened his eyes.

The shades were drawn, so the room wasn’t very bright. Burt stood in the doorway, wearing an apron, staring at the bed. He looked shocked. Kurt raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, Dad?” he asked groggily. He turned to the side to check the time on his alarm clock.

And that’s when he saw Blaine’s sleeping form in bed next to him, and a lot of things clicked into place.

He looked back at his dad, suddenly much more awake. He sat up quickly, and then flinched in pain at the headrush that followed.

“Kurt…” Burt said slowly, his brows drawn together. “Could you come out here?”

“Yeah, sure,” Kurt replied. He slipped out of his blankets and stood, trying to hide his hangover. Sure, he could legally drink now, but old habits die hard.

Kurt followed his father into the hallway, closing the door behind him. Burt cleared his throat and looked Kurt in the eye.

“Now, kiddo, I know that you’re an adult, and you can do what you want. But if you’re going to have…guests over, in your bed-“

“Oh, God,” Kurt said reaching up to cover his face. “Dad, stop. Please stop now. You’ve got this all wrong.”

Kurt could feel his face reddening with mortification. His dad thought that he’d  _slept_  with Blaine. Well, okay, technically he had indeed slept next to Blaine. But his dad thought they’d had  _sex_  in Kurt’s  _bed_ …

Sure, Kurt had awkwardly discussed sex with his dad before, and he knew that he should be able to talk about it without freaking out, but before it had always been hypothetical. Kurt could deal with discussing safe sex with his dad when it was in  _just in case_  scenarios. This was completely different.

Kurt removed his hands from his face and began explaining. “Blaine and I went to a bar last night, you knew that. Then we both drank too much to drive, and he forgot his wallet so he couldn’t pay the cab to take him to his dorm, so I just said he could crash here.”

Burt looked slightly relieved. “Oh, okay.” He said. “One of you could have taken the couch, though.”

Kurt frustratedly thought about saying that he’d thought of that, but the memory of Blaine, intoxicated and beautiful and topless, asking Kurt to stay, kept Kurt from bringing it up. “I guess we just weren’t…really thinking.”

Burt laughed. “I don’t doubt it.” He was smiling now, much more at ease. “It’s fine that he stayed. Just, you know, advanced notice is usually nice.”

Kurt nodded. “Of course, Dad. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Anyway, can you come downstairs once you’re ready? I’m trying to cook breakfast and I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Kurt laughed softly, then ground his teeth at the pain in his head. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

Kurt went back into his room and shut the door. He leaned against it and closed his eyes. When he opened them he saw that Blaine was still laying in the bed, asleep. Of course, he still wasn’t wearing a shirt, and the comforter covered him up to the waist, making him look as though he wasn’t wearing anything. No wonder Burt jumped to conclusions. Kurt looked at Blaine for a moment longer, a faint blush creeping over his face.

Kurt went into the bathroom to take a shower before getting dressed. Blaine was still asleep when he came out, so he decided to let him sleep(the poor boy’s hangover was going to be twice as bad as Kurt’s) and headed downstairs.

He helped his dad make quiche, which was Carole’s favorite. Kurt explained that Blaine was still sleeping and Kurt didn’t want to wake him. Kurt and his parents had breakfast together, talking and laughing and eating. He nearly forgot about the slumbering boy upstairs as his headache faded away.

 

 

Blaine was awoken by the ringing of his phone. He groaned, refusing to open his eyes. He didn’t want to move.

Finally the phone stopped, and Blaine relaxed into the sheets. He only had a moment of peace, though, before it began ringing again.

“Goddamnit,” he muttered, opening his eyes.

He quickly realized that he was not in his dorm room. This considerably alarmed him for a moment until he saw the Wicked poster on the wall next to him and remembered that he was in Kurt’s room.

He only spent a second trying to grasp at the slippery memories of the previous night before he realized he needed to answer his phone.

He found it in the pocket of his jeans, which were on the floor near the bathroom door. Standing up had brought a new wave of hungover pain, and Blaine silently cursed himself as he hastily answered the phone.

“Um, hello?”

“Blaine?”

“Yeah, Maia, it’s me.”

She let out a heavy breath. “I was worried about you.”

“Worried?” Blaine asked, trying to think of why he would worry her.

“Yeah. You texted me last night and said you’d call but you never did.”

Blaine tried to remember doing such a thing. All this brainpower was not helping his headache. He could vaguely recall their phone call, which ended badly, and…right, he must have texted her after that.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I completely forgot.”

“So can we hang out today?” She asked hopefully.

Blaine rubbed his face with his free hand. “Yeah, of course. It’s, um, it’s Thursday, right?”

“Uh, yeah.” Maia sounded suspicious. “Blaine, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Blaine answered, although it wasn’t really true. “I’m fine. So, tonight, then?”

“Uh-huh…” she seemed unconvinced. “You sound awful, sweetie. Are you sure you’re fine?”

“I just have a headache.”

“Are you…Blaine, are you hungover?”

Blaine sighed. “Uh, yeah. A little bit.”

“ _Blaine_.”

Blaine laughed slightly, because it really was kind of amusing. “Maia, I was at a bar last night and you knew that.”

“Yeah, but still…you’re going to class, right?”

“Of course.” Blaine wouldn’t dream of missing class.  _Actually_ , he thought.  _Shit, what time is it?_

“Well, okay…” Maia said. She didn’t seem happy. “I’ll text you later.”

“Okay. Bye, Maia.”

“Bye.”

Blaine set his phone on the ground and ran a hand through his hair, which was in horrible disarray from sleeping in it without washing the product out. He heard the door open and turned around. Kurt was peeking in the room, looking at him. He smiled.

“Hey,” Kurt said. “You’re awake.”

“Barely,” Blaine replied.

Kurt laughed, opening the door fully. He was holding a glass full of water and had a bottle of ibuprofen in the other hand. He held them up. “I brought these for you. Figured you could use them.”

“Yeah,” Blaine said, getting to his feet. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Kurt handed them over. “There’s food downstairs. My parents just left.”

Blaine swallowed two pills, and then smiled at Kurt. “Great.”

Blaine followed Kurt out of the room and downstairs, leaving his phone behind.


	20. Chapter 20

“What time is it?” Blaine asked as they entered the kitchen.

“Around eleven,” Kurt answered, glancing at the clock above the stove. “Why?”

Blaine rubbed his face with his hand. He needed to shave, not to mention shower. “I have a class at one.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Right, of course. And you wouldn’t dare miss class.”

Blaine raised his eyebrows at Kurt. “It’s important. Finals are in a few weeks.”

Kurt nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I get it.” He looked away from Blaine, pausing for a moment. “You want something to eat?”

Blaine groaned. “I don’t know if I can stomach anything.”

Kurt laughed. “Right, I forgot. You’re an amateur. Sit down, I’ll fix you something.”

Blaine watched Kurt move around the kitchen, sipping the mug of black coffee he’d been given. Kurt made scrambled eggs, insisting that they would make Blaine feel better. Blaine noticed how everything Kurt did was graceful-how he expertly cracked eggs on the side of a bowl, whisked them with short, swift movements, stirred them with a spatula as they heated in the skillet. The two didn’t talk much while they waited for the food-but they didn’t need to. They’d reached a point in their friendship where they didn’t have to be talking every second to enjoy eachother’s company. In normal relationships it seemed that it took a lot more time to arrive at this point, but Blaine and Kurt’s friendship had been fast from the start. Less than two weeks ago they’d been strangers, meeting by chance on the side of the highway. Now Kurt had somehow become one of the most important people in the world to Blaine. None of it felt forced or awkward-it was almost as though they’d been destined to be friends, Blaine mused. Like they were meant to meet eachother, and only once they’d become friends was everything right in the world.

Blaine ate the eggs Kurt made him. Unsurprisingly, they were delicious. After finishing them and a second cup of coffee, he felt considerably better.

“I need to go,” Blaine said.

Kurt nodded. “Alright. I’ll clean up in here, you can go get your stuff.”

Blaine climbed back up the stairs and went into Kurt’s room. He took off Kurt’s pants and put them in the hamper in the bathroom. He changed back into his clothes from yesterday, patting his pockets and then realizing that his wallet was in Kurt’s car, which was parked at the bar. He sighed, but knew that he could get through the day without it. He went back downstairs. Kurt was leaning against a kitchen counter, cradling a mug and gazing out the window. Blaine looked at him from the kitchen doorway. He looked like a beautiful painting or photograph. Kurt himself was nothing less than art.

Blaine felt like freezing time and staring at that image forever, but he couldn’t. He cleared his throat, and Kurt turned to him, surprised.

“Your car is still at the bar.”

Kurt nodded. “I know. And your wallet’s in it.”

“I don’t need it right away,” Blaine said.

Kurt smiled slightly. “Good. I’ll get it back to you by tonight.”

Blaine grinned back. “Great. Text me?”

“Of course.” Kurt stood up straight and set down his mug. “I’ll walk you out.”

They went outside together and walked to where Blaine’s car was parked on the street. They paused in front of the driver’s side door.

“I’ll talk to you later today,” Blaine said.

“Yep,” Kurt confirmed. “Thanks for a fun night.”

Blaine smiled widely, automatically. “No, thank  _you_.”

Kurt leaned forward then, bringing Blaine into a hug. Blaine was surprised at first. He wasn’t used to this-when was the last time someone besides Maia had embraced him? But this was Kurt, and Kurt felt safe. Blaine hugged him back.

“Goodbye, Blaine,” Kurt said softly before pulling away.

“Bye, Kurt.”

Blaine opened the car door and got in. He drove off, glancing in his rear view mirror to see Kurt standing in the street, watching him go.

 

After his Chemistry class, Blaine met Maia and they went to Starbucks. They sat at a table, Maia swirling around the straw in her caramel macchiato while Blaine sipped at his black coffee. Maia had had to pay for both of them-Blaine was still wallet-less. This fact prompted the inevitable inquiry from Maia, so once they sat down Blaine began to explain his night at the bar, though he left out how he’d stayed at Kurt’s for the night, instead vaguely finishing the story with the cab ride. To Maia’s credit, she listened to the whole thing without interrupting or even rolling her eyes. Blaine tried to describe it right-the people and the songs and Kurt and the feeling of being alive. He could tell that Maia didn’t quite understand, though.

“Well, I’m glad you had fun,” Maia said when he finished. She was biting her lip, but she sounded earnest.

Blaine nodded. “Me too. And I really am sorry, it just completely slipped my mind that we’d talked about hanging out-“

Maia nodded slowly. “It’s okay.” She smiled slightly, taking a sip of her drink before going on. “You want to make it up to me?”

Blaine took her hand and squeezed it. “Absolutely.”

“My mom’s birthday is next week,” Maia said. “Can you help me shop for a present on Sunday?”

Blaine smiled back, glad that Maia had forgiven him. It momentarily slipped his mind that he didn’t think he’d done anything wrong in the first place. “Of course. And,” he added, “I’m taking you out on Saturday.”

Maia smiled, lighting up her whole face. “I-“ she faltered, then took a breath. “Thank you, Blaine.”

He shook his head. “Anything for you,” he said, and then he leaned forward to kiss her.

Kurt dropped by OSU that evening to give Blaine back his wallet. Blaine met him outside the dorms and they chatted for a bit before Kurt walked back to his car and drove away. This time, it was Blaine who watched Kurt drive away.

 

Blaine sat on a bench, reading from his history textbook, when he felt his phone vibrate. He wondered who it could be-Maia never texted him during art, especially since she knew he’d be waiting outside her classroom. Blaine checked his phone.

It was a text from Kurt.  _Where are you, right now?_

Blaine’s eyebrows drew together. He glanced up at the door to the art building. Then he typed out a reply.  _On campus. Why?_

Kurt’s response was rapid.  _But where, exactly?_

Blaine noticed that he hadn’t answered the ‘why’ part. Perplexed, Blaine texted back.  _On a bench in front of the art department building._

Kurt’s answer was short. _Stay there._

Blaine bit his lip and checked the time. Maia’s class got out in ten minutes.

Within three minutes, however, Blaine felt someone tap on his shoulder. He turned around to see Kurt standing behind the bench. “Fancy seeing you here,” Kurt said.

Blaine smiled. “What’re you doing here?”

Kurt walked around the bench so that he stood in front of Blaine. “I was in the neighborhood so I thought I’d stop by. Also, I could use some company.”

“Company?” Blaine asked, tapping his fingers on his history book.

Kurt nodded. “I’m going to the music store a couple blocks away. You don’t have any classes soon, do you?”

“No…” Blaine answered, his eyes flickering to the building door. “No more today.”

Kurt smiled. “Great. Care to join me, then?”

Blaine glanced down at his phone, still sitting in his lap. Six minutes until Maia’s class was out. He kept tapping his fingers, unable to answer.

“Blaine?” Kurt said, his voice tinged with concern. “Are you okay? If you don’t want to come-“

“Yes.” Blaine said suddenly, firmly. “Yeah, let’s go.” He stood up, clutching his textbook.

“Are you sure?” Kurt asked. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” Blaine said earnestly, meeting Kurt’s eyes. “Let’s go.”

Kurt smiled slowly, then. “I’m parked this way.” He pointed.

Blaine nodded, and they began to walk. Blaine looked at his phone, then back at the art building. Taking a deep breath, he resolutely pocketed his phone and asked Kurt what he needed at the music store, quickening his pace as he did so.


	21. Chapter 21

As they parked behind the music store- Between the Sheets, a shop that Blaine knew of but had never had any need to go to- Blaine felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out and read the new text message from Maia.

_You weren’t here after art._

Blaine bit his lip. Next to him, Kurt was unbuckling.  _Sorry,_  he typed, and then glanced at Kurt- who was exiting the car with absolute grace. How did he manage to do everything so elegantly?  _I was working on a paper and lost track of time. I’ll see you tomorrow night._

As he pressed send, there was a tapping sound on his window. He looked up to see that Kurt had walked around the car and was smiling down at him. “Coming?” Kurt asked teasingly.

Blaine quickly unbuckled and got out of the car.

They entered the store and Blaine looked around. Shelves and display cases filled the room, full of sheet music. Around the walls of the store there were some CD racks, presumably containing some of the same music as were in the books.

Kurt headed towards the back and Blaine trailed afterward, looking at the album covers and concert posters on the walls. Kurt stopped in front of the Broadway section, running his hand delicately down the spines of the music. Blaine took a moment to appreciate the concentrated look on Kurt’s face, the way he held himself almost solemnly, so respectful and reverent of the music around him. Then Blaine turned and wandered over to the CDs against the wall, examining them. The radio played softly in the background, but Blaine could also hear Kurt humming to himself. He turned around and saw Kurt pluck a music book from a shelf and open it up. Not wanting to disturb him but too curious to resist, Blaine spoke up. “What are you looking for?”

Kurt looked up suddenly, as if he were startled to realize he wasn’t alone, the sole person in a labyrinth of music notes. “Oh,” he said breathily, smiling at Blaine. “There’s a play I want to audition for once I get back to New York. I need a really big, show-stopping sort of song for it.” He closed the book he’d been thumbing through and slid it back into place on the shelf. He sighed. “The problem is finding one that’s in my range. I might end up having to transpose it, unfortunately…” Kurt trailed off, another book catching his eye.

Blaine felt his phone vibrate, but made no move to check it. He was slightly mesmerized by Kurt, whose lips were slightly parted, silently mouthing the lyrics to whatever Broadway tune he was looking at. After a moment, he looked up at Blaine and smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I brought you along for company and here I am, being horrible company myself.”

Blaine shook his head rapidly. “No, it’s fine. Go ahead, find your song. I’ll browse.”

Kurt smiled. “Thanks, Blaine.” He looked back down at the music, but then something seemed to occur to him. “They’ve got an impressive collection of old records against the back wall. Worth taking a look at.”

Blaine nodded, smiling. He left Kurt to his sheet music and wandered towards the very back of the store, where he indeed saw a notable amount of records, hung on the wall and organized by artist in boxes. He flipped through them, getting lost in their faded covers and the worn feeling of the cardboard sleeves. Somehow Kurt had known that he’d like looking at the records-enjoy soaking up the nostalgia and history of them. He’d started at the end of the alphabet and made his way across the wall, smiling whenever he saw an artist or album that he recognized. He lost track of time, until finally he flipped back one record to see a familiar cover behind it.

“You like jazz?”

Blaine jumped slightly. He hadn’t realized that Kurt was behind him. Kurt smiled.

Blaine took a deep breath. “Not particularly.” He examined the Nat King Cole record, so familiar to him. “My mom used to play this when I was little. She’d put it on when she was cooking dinner, before my dad got home…she used to sing along with it. I’d dance around the kitchen.” Blaine smiled fondly at the memory, the image of his mother’s house heels clicking around the kitchen floor as she made dinner in her apron, crooning along with Cole. Blaine hummed a bit of  _The Touch of Your Lips_  before slipping the record back into its place.

He turned around to look at Kurt. The pale boy wore a faint, almost sad smile. Blaine tilted his head to the side, questioning. They spent a moment like that, just looking at eachother, until Kurt’s smile widened and became happy.

“I think I found the perfect song for my audition,” he told Blaine.

 

They left the music shop after Kurt purchased a songbook. Kurt suggested they go get something to eat and Blaine had no qualms. They drove to a little bakery downtown and ate pastries, sitting it the bright shop and chatting. Blaine checked his phone at one point, seeing a text from Maia( _I didn’t know you had a paper. What’re our plans for tomorrow night?_ ). He didn’t respond to it, instead turning his phone off altogether and focusing his full attention on Kurt, how perfect his hair looked, how his eyes shone, how his skin contrasted with the dark wood-paneled walls. Kurt told him about an Italian pastry shop in New York that he and Rachel would go to, eating cannoli and drinking espresso after they’d had stressful days. Blaine asked more questions about New York, and Kurt went on to paint a picture for Blaine, describing the colorful people and shops, the street performers and the children playing in Central Park, the Broadway shows he’d seen and his histrionic classmates from NYADA. Blaine was enraptured. Kurt was so in love with the city, able to describe its magic so vividly; he made Blaine want to live in a place he’d never even seen.

They walked outside of the bakery and dawdled on their way to Kurt’s car. They continued to talk as Kurt drove slowly back to OSU, finally stopping at the entrance to the dorms. Blaine said goodbye to Kurt, with a promise to text him, and exited the car.

When Blaine reached his room he turned on his phone again to see that he had a missed call from Maia, but no voicemail. He sent her a text.

_Sorry, my phone died. We can go to dinner. I’ll call you tomorrow._

Blaine wondered vaguely when he’d started lying to Maia.

He also wondered when he’d stopped feeling bad about it. He felt no guilt as he tossed his phone down on the bed and turned on his laptop. The phone vibrated a few times but he pretended not to notice as he Googled photos of the New York City skyline, eventually checking what sort of business degree options there were at NYU, Columbia, and a few city colleges.

He noted the vast music programs at those colleges too. He remembered singing in a bar with Kurt and dancing to jazz with his mother. He bookmarked the program webpages before shutting his laptop.

Still ignoring his phone, he went back to reading his history textbook. He studied battles and contemplated how not everything is  _light_  or _dark_ , but that there are so many confusing shades of gray in between.

And also how easily a single person can change the course of history.


	22. Chapter 22

On Saturday evening, Blaine drove to Maia’s house to pick her up. They went to Breadstix, the local pseudo-Italian restaurant. It wasn’t too classy, but it was where they’d had their first date, so Blaine hoped it would help fix things between them.

They got there and were shown to a table. They sat across from eachother even though Blaine would have preferred to sit side-by-side. They read the menus in silence for a moment.

Blaine folded his menu and set it down. “What’re you getting?” he asked.

“I don’t know yet,” she said, peeking at him over her own menu. “I haven’t decided.”

“I’m getting the ravioli,” Blaine told her.

Maia rolled her eyes. “You  _always_  get that,” she teased.

“Because it’s always good,” Blaine countered.

Maia laughed softly, her eyes returning to her menu. Now, at least, she was smiling.

A waiter came and took their orders, setting glasses of water on the table. He left, taking their menus, and Maia reached across the table to hold Blaine’s hand. “How are you?”

Blaine smiled at her, leaning forward and resting his chin on his free hand. “I’m good.”

Maia smiled back. “Good. How are your classes?”

Blaine leaned back again. “They’re fine. Yours?”

Maia kept on smiling softly, her hand tight around Blaine’s. “They’re alright. What did you say that paper you were writing was for?”

Blaine fidgeted uncomfortably. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something seemed  _off_  for some reason. “Oh, it’s for history,” he said, his mind scrambling. “About World War I, how a simple incident- you know, Franz Ferdinand being shot- caused the whole planet to go to war. The far-reaching effects of a simple event, basically.”

Maia nodded slowly. “Interesting.”

Blaine met her eyes, then looked away. “It is.”

They moved on to other topics, chatting idly as they waited for their food. Blaine still felt strange, but he couldn’t figure out why.

Blaine was pushing his ravioli around his plate, still holding Maia’s hand, when she asked, “So, do you know what you’re doing next semester yet?”

Blaine looked up at her. “What do you mean?”

She took a bite of her salad before responding. “You know, declaring your major. Do you know what you’re going to do?”

“Um…” Blaine said, setting down his fork and resisting the urge to sigh.

And that was when he realized what was  _off_. What felt so strange.

The weight. He could feel the weight on him. Maia was causing him to feel pressured, to carefully think out his actions to conform to what she wanted.  _Maia_ , who had always been one of the very few people Blaine could trust to let him do and say what he wanted.

His hand went limp in hers and he sat up straight, pulling away from her. He couldn’t help it. The awful realization warranted a physical response.

“Blaine?” Maia asked with concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Blaine said- he _lied_ , and he’d never felt the need to lie about how he felt to her before. “I’m just, uh, feeling a little light-headed. I’ll be right back, okay?”

Maia let go of his hand, allowing him to slide out of the booth and walk to the back of the restaurant where the restrooms were. He pushed open the door and found the men’s room blessedly empty. He leaned over a sink, looking at his reflection.

He stared at himself and began to wonder when he had changed. When had the person behind that face begun lying to his girlfriend-his perfectly nice, caring girlfriend who  _loved_  him? Then again, when had he begun to feel  _pressured_  to act a certain way with his girlfriend?

This wasn’t right. Maia was supposed to be the one person in his life that Blaine could be with without feeling the weight.

 _Not the_  only _person_ , a voice in his head reminded him. Of course, there was also Kurt.

But Blaine needed to focus on the task at hand. Maybe it wasn’t Maia- maybe it was just the atmosphere. They should go back to Blaine’s dorm and watch movies and make out, or something. That was something Blaine was perfectly comfortable with. He’d never felt pressured when he was alone with Maia. Things were always simple when it was just the two of them. Blaine nodded at his reflection, resolved. They’d leave the restaurant and the weight would go away. Problem solved.

 

Except that it wasn’t solved.

Maia didn’t  _want_  to go to Blaine’s dorm- she told him she was enjoying the restaurant and didn’t want to leave early. Even afterwards, she suggested that they go to a party one of her classmates was having. Blaine refused. They got in the car and didn’t talk. The weight pressed down hard on Blaine’s chest, suffocating him.

He ended up dropping Maia off at her house after a silent ride there. He leaned over to kiss her cheek before she left the car. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he told her.

She nodded. “Get here early, okay? I want to beat the crowds at the mall.”

“Of course,” Blaine answered, watching wistfully as she slammed the door shut and walked up the driveway to her front door. It occurred to Blaine too late that he should have walked with her.


	23. Chapter 23

“What do you think of this?” Maia asked, holding up a kitchen utensil set.

“I don’t know,” Blaine said for what felt like the thousandth time that day. His eyes skipped over various objects in the cooking store. It was hard not to be distracted. “She’s your mom.”

Maia sighed, tossing the package back down and moving on to look at pot holders. Blaine trailed slowly and reluctantly after her.

They’d gotten to the mall in the morning-not until eleven, though, due to an accident on the highway en route. Maia had spent the whole time they were sitting in traffic tapping her fingernails on her door, an endless  _tap-tap-tap-tap_ , which only added to the charged atmosphere between the two of them.

They’d arrived at the mall and looked through at least three stores before taking a break for food. Now they were slowly making their way through the inventory of a cooking store. Maia seemed determined that nothing was right for her mother’s birthday present.

Blaine listlessly observed a waffle iron demonstration while Maia looked at merchandise. He didn’t mind the mall so much usually, but today it was draining his energy.

Well, maybe Maia was guiltier of that than the mall was.

Maia eventually decided that nothing in the cooking store was right, either, so they left. Blaine reached for Maia’s hand as they walked along the stores in the mall, but she shook him off. “You’re walking too slow,” she complained.

Blaine was tired. He’d had trouble falling asleep the previous night after their date. He’d sat on his bed late at night, staring at his phone and debating whether he should call someone. The only two people he wanted to call were Maia and Kurt, and for some reason every time he considered talking to one of them he found reasons not to. It was late. He’d just seen Maia. He didn’t want to bother Kurt. Eventually he’d resorted to studying, which made him sleepy rather quickly. He wasn’t in the mood to be at the mall- not for hours on end, anyway.

Maia paused in front of a clothing store, looking at a coat displayed in the window. “What do you think of that?” she asked Blaine.

Blaine glanced at the coat on the manikin, hardly even noticing it. “It’s a nice coat.”

Maia rolled her eyes. “No, but for my mom.”

Blaine sighed. “Maia, I don’t know, okay? I’m sorry, but I don’t know what your mother wants or likes. You’re her daughter. Can’t you just choose something?”

Maia looked away from the window and faced him, crossing her arms. “Blaine, I thought you wanted to help. That’s why I brought you. You’re not being very  _helpful_.”

Blaine took a step towards her. He didn’t feel well. He felt like he was about to make a mistake, but he carried on anyway. “Maia, I can’t help you with this, okay? I’m doing my best! I drove you here and I bought you lunch and I’ve gone with you into practically every store in the whole goddamned mall, what else do you  _want_  from me?!”

Maia looked at him in angered disbelief. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe I just want you to be supportive and caring! Isn’t that in the job description of a boyfriend?!”

Blaine scoffed. “Don’t tell me how to be a good boyfriend, Maia. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Shut up, Blaine.” Maia responded flippantly. “You’ve been ditching me constantly for the past two weeks. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Blaine looked at her, confused. “What are you  _talking_  about? We hang out all the time!”

Maia rolled her eyes. “Yeah, when you’re not off having drunken sleepovers with your best friend Kurt.” She spit out Kurt’s name like it was a curse word.

“Maia, it wasn’t-“ Blaine stopped suddenly, staring at her. He narrowed his eyes, thinking. “How did you know I slept at Kurt’s?” Blaine asked slowly.

Maia crossed her arms, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “You told me,” she said simply.

Blaine shook his head slowly. “No, I didn’t.”

Maia met his gaze head-on. “Well you  _should_  have! Why are you keeping things from me, Blaine? What else haven’t you told me?”

Blaine could hear the hurt in her voice, but he was too preoccupied to acknowledge it. “Maia, how did you find out that I spent the night at Kurt’s?”

Maia looked down, her arms still crossed. She didn’t say anything at first, but Blaine refused to give in. Finally she began to speak. “After I called you on Thursday, I went over to your dorm to bring you coffee. Since you were hungover. I thought you’d like it.” She sighed, looking up again to face him. “But you weren’t there. So then…when you went to the bathroom in Breadstix, you left your phone on the table, so I just…checked it, okay? And you were talking to Kurt, thanking him  _again_  for letting you crash there…”

Blaine stared at his girlfriend incredulously. “You went through my  _phone_?”

“I was worried about you,” she said quietly.

Blaine stepped back from her, running his hand over his face. “I can’t believe you,” he muttered. “That’s a complete violation of my privacy.”

“Blaine, you were  _lying_  to me!” Maia said angrily. “Why do you feel the need to lie to me?”

“Because you don’t understand!” he almost yelled back. He glanced around, remembering that they were in a mall and people were around. He quieted his voice before continuing. “I can tell you don’t like it when I hang out with Kurt. But Kurt’s my  _friend_ , Maia. He’s the closest friend I’ve had in a long time.”

Maia looked at him, her expression confused. “Blaine, you  _just_  met him.”

“That doesn’t matter. He just- he understands me, okay?”

“Whatever. It’s still not okay to lie to me.”

“It’s not okay to  _go through my phone_!”

“I don’t want to lose you, Blaine!” Maia’s voice was raised and several nearby shoppers paused to look over her with alarm.

Blaine took a deep breath. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go talk outside.”

He closed the space between himself and Maia, resting his hand on the small of her back to guide her. She resisted for a moment, but then gave in.

They walked outside and Blaine led them around the building to a more secluded spot, looking out over the parking lot. Blaine pulled away from her and sighed, taking a moment to look out over all the cars, the freeway in the distance, all those people driving and going somewhere and having lives of their own.

Finally, he faced Maia. “What do you mean, you don’t want to lose me?”

Maia crossed her arms over her chest. She looked suddenly very young, with a few strands of her dark hair falling loose from where she’d clipped it back and framing her face. Blaine resisted the urge to brush it behind her ear. “I feel like I’m losing you,” Maia said quietly. “Like you’re more distant, and you don’t want to spend time with me.” She swallowed, staring at the ground. “Our relationship isn’t like it used to be. It’s not as good, or easy. It’s like…your feelings have changed, or something.”

“Maia,” Blaine practically whispered. “No, Maia, I don’t- that’s not true.” Blaine swallowed hard.  _Was it true?_  He was so used to comforting and complying and just doing what made his life easiest- like telling Maia he still felt the same way- that he wasn’t sure if it was what he really wanted.

Maia looked up at him then. Her eyes were watery, and she bit her lip like she was trying to hold back tears. When she spoke her voice was shaky, but her tone was resolute. It reminded Blaine of how sure of herself Maia was, something he’d always admired in her. “Blaine, I think we need some time to think. Reevaluate what we have. Because clearly neither of us is sure.”

Blaine could feel a pain in his chest as he realized what she was saying. “No, no,” he pleaded. “Maia, that’s not what we need. We’re fine, okay? I’ll spend more time with you. I know I haven't been the best boyfriend lately, but I  _can_  be-“

“Blaine,” she said quietly, shaking her head. She’d made up her mind. “Just, a day, all right? Don’t talk to me tomorrow. Let’s think about whether this… _we_ , are going to work out.” A tear slipped from her eye, and she wiped her eyes with her hand, then brushing back her out-of-place hair. Blaine watched her do these things, observing them, wanting to speak but unable to find air. It seemed as though his lungs were damaged along with his heart. Maia continued. “Look, I’ll take a bus home, okay? Thank you for driving me, but I think we should be apart, for now.” She took a deep breath and began to walk away.

Blaine finally found air, forcing words out of his mouth. “Maia, stop! Don’t go, okay, don’t leave.”

Maia paused, but didn’t turn around. She continued to walk.

“Maia!” Blaine called out, his voice breaking. “Maia, stay with me! Please! I- I love you!”

The world seemed to be still for a second, devoid of any sound or movement. Then Maia slowly turned around. She looked at Blaine, her eyes red and her jaw set, her expression unreadable. She opened her mouth to speak. “Blaine, don’t lie to me.”

She walked away, rounding the corner of the building and leaving Blaine all alone.


	24. Chapter 24

Kurt was lying on his bed with his laptop open, reading an email from Rachel and smiling at the accompanying photos when he heard his phone ring.

He glanced at the corner of his computer screen, verifying that it was nearly one in the morning. He wondered who might be calling him.

He sat up so he could reach his night stand, where his phone was charging. He looked at the screen.  _Blaine NotAStalker Anderson_ , the caller ID read. He accepted the call.

“Hello?”

“Kurt!” Blaine’s voice was loud and excited. Kurt pulled the phone away form his ear for a second, staring at it before returning it to the side of his head.

“Hi, Blaine.”

“I’m sooooo glad you picked up, Kurt.”

Blaine was not only loud, but sloppy with his words. Kurt’s eyebrows drew together. “No problem. What’s up?”

“Well,” Blaine said, and then chuckled slightly. “My life sucks.”

“How come?” Kurt asked.

“Mm-mmm,” Blaine muttered. “Doesn’t matter. It just does.”

“Blaine, can I ask you something?”

“Sure. Shoot. Go for it.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “How drunk are you right now?”

Blaine laughed. There was a clatter, then fumbling noises, and the laughing returned. Kurt figured he’d dropped his phone. Finally he answered: “Very. Very very drunk.”

Kurt sighed, but smiled slightly. “I thought you didn’t drink much.”

“I didn’t used to,” Blaine emphasized. “But you have opened so many doors for me!”

Kurt lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. “Glad to hear it. Will you tell me why your life sucks?”

Blaine was silent for a moment before he spoke quietly, his previous exuberance gone. “Maia and I got into a fight.”

Kurt closed his eyes, biting his lip. “And that’s why you’re drunk?”

“Yep,” Blaine answered, louder but not as lively as before.

“How much have you drank?”

“I dunno,” Blaine said. “A lot. The bottle’s around here somewhere…” Kurt could hear movement through the phone, Blaine stumbling around.

“What was the fight about?” Kurt asked.

“I don’t know. She says I haven’t been a good boyfriend or…or something. Or that we’re losing…and you…” he trailed off, seeming to have confused himself. After a second he spoke up again. “She said not to talk to her for a day. So she could think.”

Kurt sighed. “Are you in your dorm, Blaine?”

“Uh-huh,” Blaine said. “Just me, all alone, in my dorm. By myself.” His tone was sad again. Kurt chewed on his lip. He wished Blaine had called him before deciding to get wasted. Blaine didn’t have experience with alcohol and therefore probably didn’t know that it could be a depressant.

“Blaine, I’m going to tell you what to do, okay? Will you listen to me?”

“Of course, Kurt.”

Kurt sighed, hating how much he loved his name in Blaine’s mouth. “First, you need to go to sleep, right away, okay? Drink some water and then go to bed.”

“I can do that,” Blaine answered thoughtfully.

“Good,” Kurt said. “When you wake up tomorrow, drink more water and take some painkillers. Then drive to my house.”

“To your house?” Blaine asked.

“Yes, my house,” Kurt repeated slowly. “You’re going to come over and I will help cure your hangover. Then you can hang out with me and not think about Maia and your fight, okay?”

“Oh,” Blaine said. “Okay. I can do that. Not thinking. That sounds good.”

Kurt tried not to laugh at Blaine’s intoxicated mumbling. “Good. Now go to bed, okay?”

“I will,” Blaine answered. “And, Kurt?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for being such an awesome amazing super friend.”

Kurt smiled widely. “Anytime, Blaine. Goodnight.”

“Night-night, Kurt.”

Kurt ended the call and then rested his phone on his chest, thinking.

 

Blaine woke up the next morning feeling absolutely miserable.

His mouth was dry, his head throbbing, his stomach upset, his muscles sore. He cracked his eyelids open and stared at the dim ceiling. After he was able to get past the physical pain, he remembered why he’d gotten so spectacularly drunk(and therefore hungover) in the first place.

Maia. Today was their day to not talk and think.

Blaine rolled over, pressing his face into his pillow. He didn’t want to think. He wanted to lie next to Maia and stroke her hair and talk about school with her and not have worries or heartache.

As he lay there for a moment, though, he felt something else, something besides nausea and despair. He recalled raising his voice at Maia, defending himself against her. He remembered driving to the liquor store and using his fake ID to buy a bottle of rum- god, just the thought of it made him want to vomit- and then sneaking it into his dorm room. He remembered calling his parents and telling them that he was sick and couldn’t make it to their weekly dinner- an engagement he hadn’t missed all year.

He’d been so out-of-control, so impulsive, so completely out of character for him.

And it felt freeing.

But after only a few seconds of pondering this strange freedom, he remembered Maia walking away from him in the parking lot and the heartache took over again.

While he was lying there wallowing, a hazy memory came over him. He vaguely recalled talking to Kurt the previous night- or had that been a dream? It had been a phone call, yes, Kurt had called him…or he’d called Kurt?

Blaine reached over to his nightstand, finding his phone sitting there. He hadn’t plugged it in before falling asleep, and it was very low on battery. He was able to check his recent calls though, and see that he had indeed called Kurt the previous night, and talked for about five minutes. He lay back in his bed, closing his eyes and trying to remember what he’d said. It slowly came back to him…Kurt had told him to go to bed, and then…to come over to his house, today. Blaine opened his eyes, still unsure of whether he was making this up or if it had actually happened.

Now that he thought about it, though, he didn’t really care. Either way, seeing Kurt sounded like an absolutely wonderful idea. What better to get his mind of things than to go hang out in a pressure-free environment with his closest friend?

Blaine got up and stumbled into his bathroom to look for aspirin.

 

After dry heaving over his sink for a few minutes, drinking lots of water, choking down some painkillers, showering and getting dressed, Blaine left his dorm. As he walked out he caught his reflection and realized he hadn’t bothered to style his hair, leaving his wet locks curly and disheveled. He thought about going back into the bathroom to gel it, but decided against it. He was just going to Kurt’s house, and Kurt wouldn’t mind. Would he?

Blaine drove over there, and his memories of their conversation the previous night steadily became clearer, so he had no doubt that he was supposed to go to Kurt’s house.

When he arrived at the house, Kurt’s car was the only one in the driveway. Blaine got out and walked up to the door, knocking on it. After a moment, it opened, with Kurt on the other side.

“You’re here!” Kurt exclaimed.

“Yes,” Blaine answered, wincing. “And my head hurts.”

“Oh,” Kurt said, much quieter. “Come on in, I’ll help you with that.”

Blaine followed Kurt into the kitchen. He sat at the table, putting his head in his hands as Kurt moved around the kitchen.

“Where are your parents?” Blaine asked after a moment.

“They left for an overnight conference in Columbus,” Kurt said. He stopped moving, causing Blaine to look up. Kurt was still, standing by the counter, and staring at him.

“What?” Blaine asked.

Kurt raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you have classes today?”

Blaine let his head fall back into his hands. “Yeah. So?”

Blaine heard Kurt move closer, and Kurt’s voice was softer when he replied. “I’ve never known you to skip class.”

Blaine laughed humorlessly. “You’ve also never known me to be this ridiculously hungover.”

Kurt laughed too. Blaine could feel that he was very close, standing right next to him, but he didn’t look up. Blaine felt almost a charge, an electricity between him and where he knew Kurt was.

Then Kurt spoke, and the moment was over. “Good, then, we’ve got all day.” Kurt walked away and then returned, with the noise of clinking glass. Blaine looked up to see him holding two bottles of alcohol, one clear and one amber-colored. “The first step to curing a hangover,” Kurt said scholarly, “Is to get some alcohol back in your system. Hair of the dog, as they say. What’s your poison?”

Blaine looked from one bottle to the other, and then to Kurt’s tentative smile.

“Anything but rum,” Blaine said.


	25. Chapter 25

After they each took a shot of whiskey- Kurt refused to let Blaine be tipsy alone- Kurt went about making green tea. “Antioxidants,” Kurt told Blaine as he measured out tea leaves. “They’re lifesavers.”  
He placed a steaming mug in front of Blaine. Blaine cupped his hands around it, savoring the feeling of warmth and the sweet earthy scent.  
“Are you hungry?” Kurt asked, and Blaine nodded. Kurt sliced cantaloupe and strawberries and set them on the table. He sat down across from Blaine with his own mug of tea. They sat in companionable silence for a moment, sipping their hot drinks and eating the delicious fruit.  
“So,” Kurt said hesitantly. Blaine looked at him, but couldn’t catch his eye. “You’re not supposed to talk to her today?”  
Blaine sighed, picking up a strawberry and examining it listlessly. “Yeah,” he answered. “We’re supposed to think about our relationship independently, or something.”  
Kurt nodded slowly, bringing his mug to his lips and taking a small sip. He set it down again, tracing the rim with his long, delicate finger. “And…do you want to, you know, think about it?”  
Blaine chewed and swallowed his strawberry, staring at the steam rising from his tea, probably more enraptured than he’d be without the shot of whiskey he’d had. “No,” he said quietly. “Not yet.”  
Kurt nodded. “Well, that can be arranged.” He offered Blaine a small smile, which Blaine gladly returned.  
  
After taking another shot each and refilling their cups of tea, Kurt and Blaine headed into the living room. Kurt collapsed on the couch and picked up the remote, turning on the TV. Blaine sat down next to him, watching as he scrolled through the On Demand options. “What do you want to watch?” Kurt asked, reading the movie titles on the screen.  
Blaine shrugged. “I don’t care.” He thought for a moment. “Well, nothing romantic.”  
The edges of Kurt’s lips curled upward. “Okay,” he said. “No romance.”  
Kurt selected some horribly violent movie that Blaine had never heard of. In the opening credits alone, three people were killed. Blaine settled back against the couch next to Kurt. He could feel the effects of the whiskey beginning to take over him. His cup of tea was warm and soothing, and his headache was almost completely diminished. He cringed as someone on screen was blown up, but he didn’t mind too much. Kurt was next to him and Maia was far from the forefront of his mind. It was all he could ask for, really.  
Once the movie finished they went into the kitchen and Kurt made them both sandwiches and poured glasses of lemonade. Blaine leaned against a counter and watched him move around the kitchen, offering to help but being waved off. They returned to the living room with their food and Kurt picked up the remote to choose another movie. They both agreed that they’d seen enough gore for the day, so Kurt found some sort of comedy to put on. Blaine wasn’t really paying much attention to it- his head was feeling a bit floaty with the leftover effects of alcohol and his lack of sleep. He was warm and content in Kurt’s living room, the couch comfortable, Kurt’s body only inches away, the sun shining in through the window. Blaine felt so calm and relaxed. It was practically a miracle, considering he was in the middle of a maybe-breakup, and finals were quickly approaching, and his parents were on his case about choosing a major. Somehow, Kurt had taken all that stress and worry away.  
“Oh, God,” Kurt said, looking at the TV. Blaine turned his focus back to the movie, trying to remember what had happened. On screen, two teenagers- one of them the daughter of a main character, Blaine was pretty sure- were heavily making out, pulling off clothes and leaning down onto a bed. The scene switched another character in the house, the father of the girl, heading upstairs, setting the suspense for what was sure to be an unbearably awkward moment.  
“I can’t even watch,” Kurt said as the two teenagers were completely disrobed and the father approached the door. “This is the worst. I will never forget the time Korey’s parents walked in on us when they were visiting from upstate…” He laughed. “Nothing will ever be more awkward.”  
“Hmm,” Blaine answered, trying to focus on the movie. He could feel heat building up in his cheeks and attempted to stop it, but wasn’t very successful.  
Kurt shook his head. “I couldn’t look either of them in the eye all through dinner. It was horrible.” Blaine could feel Kurt looking at him now, and Blaine’s blush only increased. “Isn’t it the worst?”  
Blaine shrugged, not meeting Kurt’s gaze. “I guess. I wouldn’t know.”  
“Oh,” Kurt said. “You’ve never been walked in on? Lucky you.”  
Blaine crossed his arms. “Not exactly,” he mumbled.  
But, of course, Kurt heard it. “Not exactly? What do you mean?”  
Blaine sighed. How had the conversation come to this? There was no going back now, though. He cleared his throat. “There’s never really…been anything to walk in on.”  
It was silent for a second, except for the sounds of the movie. The father was talking to the boy who’d been going at it with his daughter. Blaine didn’t even know what they were saying.  
“You don’t-“ Kurt began, then paused. “You’ve never had sex?”  
Blaine stared out the window, his arms still crossed tightly across his chest. “No.”  
“Blaine,” Kurt said, and his voice was so soft and soothing, Blaine wanted to melt into it. “I can tell you’re freaking out, okay? Calm down. It’s not a big deal.”  
Finally, Blaine turned to meet Kurt’s eyes. They were calm and steady, such a deep blue color. Kurt smiled tentatively. Blaine seemed to let go of the breath he’d been holding. Kurt bit his lip before speaking. “You really haven’t ever…”  
Blaine shook his head, still feeling the blush on his face. “No.”  
Kurt seemed to wait for an explanation, so Blaine went on. “I mean, Maia’s the only real girlfriend I’ve ever had. She’s the, uh, ‘waiting-for-marriage’ type.”  
“Ahh,” Kurt said, thoughtfully. “Hmm.” Blaine wanted so badly to know what Kurt was thinking then, but couldn’t bring himself to ask. It was all too awkward and embarrassing.  
Kurt stood up, picking up both of their empty plates from the coffee table. “I’ll be right back,” he said, heading for the kitchen. “You want ice cream?” he called back.  
Blaine smiled, shaking his head. “Sure!” he answered, and then he settled down to actually watch the movie.  
  
The TV was on, but Kurt wasn’t paying any attention to it.  
As the comedy they’d been watching drew to a close and they finished their bowls of ice cream, Blaine had begun to sink backwards into the couch cushion, seeming very at-ease. It was nice for Kurt to see- usually Blaine seemed so put-together and upright. Seeing him relax was really great. It felt like progress, somehow.  
They’d switched to regular television, where a Boy Meets World marathon was on. Kurt kept glancing over at Blaine, who stifled yawns every few minutes, his eyelids drooping. Kurt attributed his tiredness to the tea, alcohol, and emotional workout he’d gone through in the past 24 hours.  
By the end of the second episode, Blaine’s eyes were closed more than they were open. And halfway through the third he was fully asleep, his posture slipping, leaning over, until his head met Kurt’s shoulder, just as the credits for the episode were rolling.  
Kurt didn’t know what to do. He reveled in the feeling of Blaine so close, so comfortable and strangely intimate. But he couldn’t just let Blaine stay there, could he? His mind raced as he stared blankly at the figures moving across the TV screen. If Blaine woke up like this, he’d probably freak out. Or, maybe not. Blaine had seemed pretty comfortable with Kurt. But maybe this was too far? And what if Kurt wanted to get up?  
But Kurt didn’t want to get up. He wouldn’t have minded staying in that position for a very, very long time.  
Kurt turned his head to examine Blaine. He looked peaceful, relaxed in his sleep. His soft hair, unhindered by gel, curled against his temples and tickled Kurt’s neck. Kurt sighed. Why do these things happen to me? he wondered helplessly.  
He didn’t have to wonder for long, though. Loud rock music began playing in the show on TV, and Blaine’s eyes blinked open in surprise. There was a split second, during which Kurt held his breath, where Blaine was half-awake, keeping his head on Kurt’s shoulder.  
“Oh!” Blaine exclaimed softly. “I, Kurt, I’m sorry-” he pulled back, drowsily trying to sit up.  
“Blaine,” Kurt said, restraining himself from reaching out and touching Blaine. “It’s okay.”  
Blaine blushed, bringing his hand up to the back of his neck. “Okay. I just- okay.”  
Kurt smiled at him. He leaned forward, bringing them closer again. “Your hair is different,” he commented.  
Blaine’s hand moved from his neck to his curls, smoothing them down self-consciously. “Oh, yeah, I didn’t- I didn't think to style them. I usually do. I know it’s pretty wild, I-”  
“I like it,” Kurt said suddenly, cutting him off. “It looks good, natural.”  
Blaine’s mouth opened slightly for a moment, and then he smiled shyly. “Thanks,” he said, his hand falling back to his side. The two boys looked at eachother for a moment, and then both turned back to the TV, embarrassed. Kurt couldn’t help but think that there was something between them- some feeling or atmosphere that wasn’t there before. It was probably just wishful thinking, though. Blaine was vulnerable- sleepy, slightly drunk, and semi-heartbroken. He was probably exuding strange vibes because of reasons completely independent of Kurt.  
He couldn’t help but hope, though.


	26. Chapter 26

Blaine left shortly after, telling Kurt that he really did need to go figure out what he’d missed in class and work on it. They hugged in the doorway, Blaine feeling warm and safe with Kurt around him, and then he left.  
Along with studying, though, he also had to be alone so he could think. Because Maia had been right- they needed to consider their relationship and decide where to go with it. Ignoring the problems and barreling through obliviously wasn’t going to help either one of them. It had been childish of Blaine to think that he could just hide away with Kurt and not take Maia’s advice. It had also been childish to get smashed after their fight- Blaine was only thankful that he hadn’t drunk dialed Maia, because that would have been a disaster.  
When he drove back towards campus from Kurt’s, he felt clear-headed and in-control. He knew that Kurt was partly to thank for that. Finally, he was ready to look over the choices he’d made, whether they were right, and how to fix everything that was wrong.  
  
When Blaine awoke the next morning in order to get ready for class, he had a new text from Maia.  
Meet me at Starbucks after class?  
Blaine stared at the text for a moment, taking a deep breath.  
I’ll be there, he replied.  
It was a chilly day in Lima. It was Blaine’s last day of class before the three-day Thanksgiving break. He put on his heavier jacket before leaving his dorm. His English class was sparsely populated, and the professor let them out early. Blaine headed to his car and drove to Starbucks, taking his time.  
Maia was already there, standing just inside the door. She looked beautiful; she wore a dark-green wool coat over a gray dress that Blaine had always liked, white stockings underneath. Her hair was windblown, falling haphazardly over her shoulders. She smiled at Blaine when he entered the store, and then opened her arms. Blaine stepped forward, bringing them together in an embrace. He breathed in her scent, strong but comfortable. They pulled apart.  
“Hi,” Maia said.  
“Hello,” Blaine answered, smiling slightly.  
They bought drinks and then took them outside and sat at one of the patio tables. Blaine turned the collar up on his jacket. With the cold weather, they were the only ones outside.  
“So...” Blaine began, unsure of what to say.  
“Can we agree on something?” Maia asked hesitantly.  
Blaine cocked his head. “What?”  
“Let’s just be honest, okay?” she said. “No holding back, no lies, no half-truths. Let’s just say what we really mean for once.”  
Blaine stared at her, and then he nodded. “That sounds great,” he told her. And it did- their relationship was recently too riddled with secrecy and misunderstanding. Not only that, but today, right then, Blaine was feeling weightless. He didn’t know why, but he felt like he could be himself. Like he could tell the truth. Like he didn’t have to hide anything.  
Maia took a deep breath, staring at her coffee cup. She looked up and met Blaine’s eye. “I want to say that I’m sorry, first. I’m sorry for going through your phone, and I’m sorry for overreacting. I still don’t exactly...understand your friendship with Kurt, but that doesn’t give me the right to breach your privacy. I was confused, and worried, but it was out of line. So I’m sorry.”  
Blaine nodded. “Apology accepted. And I’m sorry for lying to you. I’m sorry for not telling you everything. Just because you don’t understand doesn’t mean I shouldn’t tell you.”  
Maia let out her breath. “Okay, we’re both sorry. Good.” She smiled tentatively.  
Blaine returned her smile, but it didn’t feel quite right. He wasn’t happy. Their apologies had an air of finality to them- as if they were wrapping up, making some closure. He felt peaceful, perhaps, as though he were ready to accept what was coming. But that didn’t mean he liked it.  
“Look, Blaine,” Maia said slowly. Blaine watched as the slight wind blew errant strands of her hair. “You’re amazing. And you really have been a wonderful boyfriend to me. You’re a great guy.”  
Blaine chuckled humorlessly. “This feels a little cliche,” he told her. “There’s a ‘but,’ isn’t there?”  
Maia sighed sadly. “Yeah,” she said. “Cliche aside. But, while we had a really great relationship, it stopped being great recently.”  
Blaine nodded, letting her go on.  
“And, no matter how I look at it and try to think it through, I just...” Maia’s voice was becoming choked. “I just can’t see a way for us to work through it.” Her eyes were watery, and as she finished her sentence a single tear slipped down her right cheek. She wiped at it with the sleeve of her coat, and then looked up at Blaine, waiting.  
Blaine sighed, leaning forward over the table. “I know, Maia. I can’t either. We’re just...too different now from who we were when we first started dating.” Blaine swallowed thickly over the lump in his throat. Maia nodded.  
“Blaine, I really did think I loved you. Or a part of you. Or what I thought was you.”  
Blaine smiled, feeling his eyes begin to tear up. He reached forward and took Maia’s hand in his, squeezing it hard. More tears were falling down her face. “I’m sorry for what I said at the mall. When I told you I loved you. But even if that wasn’t true, one-hundred percent...I do love parts of you, Maia. Even if it’s not the right love or it’s not the right time...I do love you, somehow. And I’ll always love what we had.”  
Maia nodded, wiping at her face with her free hand. “Thank you, Blaine.”  
Blaine nodded, staring into her dark brown eyes. “Thank you, Maia.”  
  
Blaine got back to his dorm and threw out his now-cold coffee. He hadn’t drank much of it during or after his break-up with Maia. He closed and locked his dormroom door, and sat down on his bed. Then he cried. He clutched the side of his bed and sobbed. He thought of all the wonderful times he’d had with Maia. He thought of sleeping next to her, cuddling with her all night when her parents were away. He thought of walks around campus and study dates and laughing at dumb movies. He remembered the feel of her fingers entwined in his and how her lips felt and tasted. He was heartbroken.  
Then he remembered the unintentionally-snide comments, the forgotten dates, the lonely and confusing nights after unsatisfying conversations. All the times Maia left him feeling empty and unimportant. He cried and he yelled, alone in his dorm. He was angry. He called her awful names aloud and then immediately rescinded them. He threw all of his pillows across the room, knocked over organized stacks of textbooks, found the empty rum bottle from the other night and impulsively smashed it against the wall. He spent the following twenty minutes picking up shards of glass, squatting on the floor, his throat raw, the tears on his face drying. He calmed his breath as he cleaned up the mess, and by the time he’d deposited all the glass bits he could find into his wastebasket, he felt peaceful again. Not happy, but tranquil.  
He was going to be okay.


	27. Chapter 27

Kurt stared at his phone intently, though it didn’t change from its usual lock screen.  
It was Wednesday afternoon. Burt and Carole were back home now, and they were all in full-on Thanksgiving preparation mode. Kurt and Carole had been cooking all day, getting all of the cold dishes ready, making marinades, and prepping the turkey. Finn and his girlfriend would be flying in, arriving at the Columbus airport that night. Kurt had been so busy he’d hardly had time to think.  
But when he did, he managed to think about Blaine.  
Kurt hadn’t spoken to Blaine since he left the house on Monday. He knew that Blaine must have talked to Maia on Tuesday. That was the deal, right? One day to think, and then they were going to talk? That’s how Kurt had taken it, anyway. He’d expected to hear from Blaine afterwards, with a victorious text or perhaps another tearful, drunken phone call. But neither had come. Kurt wanted to know what had happened. He hated himself for it, but it mattered a lot to him whether or not Blaine had a girlfriend. Kurt hadn’t even known why they got into a fight in the first place, but it seemed like a big deal, possibly breakup warranting.  
So why was Blaine being silent about it?  
Kurt finally decided he had to talk to Blaine, and maybe nudge him into divulging how it had gone with Maia. So he sent him a simple text. Hey.   
Kurt heard his father call his name from downstairs, so he dropped his phone back on his bed and left his room, trying not to dwell on the text.  
  
Blaine woke up Wednesday morning and stared at his ceiling. It took him a moment to remember the events of the previous day, and upon recalling them he turned on his side and curled up, cradling his pillow.  
He felt very alone in the world, suddenly.  
He lay like that for a while, knowing that he didn’t have to hurry, since he had no classes today. He lay there and lazily considered the thoughts swirling through his head. He didn’t move until eleven, when his phone rang.  
It was his mother calling. She was confirming plans for Thanksgiving dinner the next day, and then continued to chat with her son.  
“And how’s Maia been, dear?” she asked.  
Blaine sighed, pinching the skin between his eyes. “I…wouldn’t really know.”  
“What do you mean you don’t know, Blaine? Haven’t you just-“  
“Mom,” Blaine said, interrupting her. “Maia and I broke up yesterday.”  
There was a small silence before Mrs. Anderson began speaking again. She apologized, and she asked Blaine why, and he told her. And then she comforted him. Blaine’s eyes ached as he talked to her, already sore from crying so much the previous day, but talking about it felt good. Blaine was suddenly so thankful for his mother, the way she knew how to say the right things to make him feel better.  
“I’m sorry you two didn’t work out,” she said finally. “But you’ll find someone, Blaine. There’s someone out there who’s just right for you, the real you, who you are now.”  
“I know, Mom,” Blaine replied.  
After the call ended, Blaine held the phone to his chest and stared at the ceiling for a while longer. Finally he stood and walked into his bathroom. He put his hands on the edges of the sink, leaning forward and looking at himself in the mirror.  
“You should talk to Kurt,” he told his reflection.  
His reflection bit its lip.  
He wanted to talk to Kurt. That was the first thing he wanted to do when he’d woken up. It was what he’d wanted to do right after he and Maia had broken up. And after he’d broken the rum bottle. And after his mother called.  
But then he stopped himself, because when he thought of talking to Kurt, he felt something. He tried to examine this feeling, but he couldn’t quite place it. It had been so long…  
He couldn’t be right.  
The thing was, he was excited to talk to Kurt. Just the thought made him smile. And when he thought about it, he invariably thought, Now that I’ve broken up with Maia I want to talk to Kurt.  
But that didn’t make sense. He talked to Kurt beforehand, even when Maia hadn’t liked it.  
Why did things feel different now that he was single?  
He shook his head, and his reflection mimicked him. He decided to give it some time. He felt too strangely about the whole thing.  
  
Blaine showered, hoping that the rhythmically pounding water would help clear his head. Once he got out he stood in the middle of his room, clad in only a towel around his waist, and looked around. This dorm room was a good portion of his world, and what did it contain? Clothing, textbooks, school supplies, his laptop, a few books he enjoyed. It was a mostly neat, uncluttered space. There were no posters on the wall, no framed photographs anywhere. It abruptly seemed so dull and impersonal to Blaine. Anyone could have lived there. He suddenly wanted to move the furniture around from its standard setup, to paint the walls with bright colors, to fill it with meaningful, personal items.  
As he considered this, he heard his phone vibrate on his nightstand. He walked over and picked it up. It was a new message from Kurt.  
Hey.  
Blaine stared at it shrewdly. It was the simplest text he could have possibly received. It was from Kurt, his friend. Possibly his best friend, now that he didn’t have Maia- they’d agreed that trying to be friends was going to be too difficult, for the time being. He should answer it. He really should. He wanted to talk to Kurt.  
He couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his face when he thought about talking to Kurt, and his stomach twisted pleasantly as he typed out a reply.  
Hey!  
He sent it, and then collapsed backwards onto his bed.  
What was going on with him?  
  
Kurt helped his father bring in extra chairs from the garage, and once Burt left to pick up Finn and his girlfriend from the airport, he helped Carole dust the downstairs and clean the bathroom. He and Carole ate a quick dinner, and then he finally retreated to his bedroom, tired and sweaty. It wasn’t until about seven PM that he saw the Blaine had replied to his text. He considered how to respond.  
How are you? He sent, deciding to keep it general and simple.  
Kurt began undressing, planning on taking a shower before his step-brother arrived. His phone vibrated within minutes. He picked it up to read Blaine’s reply.  
I’m not quite sure, to be honest.  
Kurt raised an eyebrow. Why’s that? He asked.  
Long story, I guess. Can I call you?  
Kurt grinned happily at the text, and quickly typed a response. I’m about to get in the shower. I’ll call you when I’m done.  
He set down his phone and headed into his bathroom, hoping that Finn didn’t get home until late, so he’d have plenty of time to talk to Blaine.  
  
Blaine gulped as he read Kurt’s most recent reply. He tossed his phone on his bed and leaned forward, putting his elbows on his desk and resting his face in his hands, attempting to squash all of the thoughts running through his head.  
He may have been confused about his emotions, but he certainly wasn’t clueless, either.  
Twenty minutes later, his phone rang. Blaine answered it. “Hi.”  
“Hey,” Kurt replied. His voice, as always, was high and clear and vaguely musical. “What’s up?”  
“Nothing,” Blaine said. “I don’t know.”  
Kurt cleared his throat softly. “Is anything, um, wrong?”  
Yes, Blaine thought. I’ve never been so confused in my life. “Maia and I broke up,” he said out loud.  
“Oh, Blaine. I’m so sorry.”  
Kurt sounded so sincere, too. He was just so nice and compassionate. “Yeah,” Blaine said lamely. “Thanks.”  
“Was it, um, a mutual sort of thing, or…?”  
Blaine straightened in his chair, staring out the window at the darkened campus. “Yeah, we both agreed that it was best. We’re just not right for eachother.”  
“That still sucks.”  
Blaine sighed. “I’ll be okay.”  
They were silent for a moment, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, even over the phone. Blaine could hear Kurt breathing, and he wished desperately that he could know what his friend was thinking.  
“When are you going back to school?” Blaine asked suddenly.  
“I fly back on Sunday,” Kurt replied.  
“Wow,” Blaine said. “That’s soon.”  
“Yeah.” Kurt paused. “Isn’t it funny that we’ve only known eachother for a couple of weeks?”  
“It seems like a lot longer,” Blaine said.  
“It really does…” Kurt sounded thoughtful, but didn’t elaborate.  
“Hey, Kurt?”  
“Yes?”  
“Do you think that…” Blaine swallowed. “D’you think I could drive you to the airport, on Sunday? I'll probably be going to Westerville, anyway, so it’s not far out of the way.” Blaine held his breath, waiting for an answer.  
“Oh, sure!” Kurt said. “I mean, that would be great. I’ll tell my dad he doesn’t need to bring me.”  
“Okay,” Blaine said, grinning widely. “Great. I mean, I just figured-“  
“Yeah,” Kurt agreed. “It’s perfect.”  
Blaine sat there for a moment, not saying anything, just grinning like an idiot.  
“Oh,” Kurt said suddenly. “Um, my brother and his girlfriend just got here. I’m gonna have to go say hi.”  
“Of course,” Blaine replied quickly.  
“I’ll text you, okay?”  
“Okay,” Blaine said. “Goodnight, Kurt.”  
“Goodnight, Blaine.”  
Blaine hung up, set his phone down, and ran his fingers through his hair. He could tell it was reaching Medusa status with all the fondling he was doing. It was a nervous habit, after all.


	28. Chapter 28

Thanksgiving dinner at the Anderson household was set to begin promptly at 3pm, so Blaine knew he had to get there by 2:30. That morning he got dressed, wearing a button-up and sweater and slacks. He stared contemplatively at both a bowtie and a necktie, and then tossed them both aside. He gelled his hair down and left shortly before one.

His mother greeted him at the door, giving him a gentle hug- sincere, but not too tight as to wrinkle clothing. “Come in, dear,” she said. “Jonathan and Emma will be here soon.”

Blaine went with her into the kitchen, where she oversaw a hired cook prepare dinner. Blaine sat at the kitchen table, looking over all the dishes they’d be eating, and chatted with his mother.

Mrs. Anderson asked about school, and he didn’t really mind talking about it. “It feels kind of silly to have days off when finals are so soon,” he said. “Makes for a slightly stressful holiday.”

Mrs. Anderson smiled sympathetically. “I’m sure you’ll do fine, dear.”

Blaine shrugged. “Yeah. My friend Kurt’s already done with his first term, so he doesn’t have to worry about exams. His school goes by trimester instead of semester, or something.”

“Interesting,” his mother said before taking a sip from her glass of red wine. “I don’t think you’ve mentioned a friend named Kurt before.”

Blaine swallowed, suddenly anxious. “I just met him recently. He lives in Lima.”

“Where does he go to school?”

“New York City,” Blaine said.

Mrs. Anderson began to say something, but was interrupted by the doorbell. She hurried out to the foyer, and Blaine trailed behind her. His Uncle Jonathan and Aunt Emma had arrived. As they all said hello, Mr. Anderson emerged from his study. The whole family went to sit around the dining room table and wait for dinner. Blaine declined his mother’s offer of wine, but everyone else had some, sipping as they caught up with eachother. Blaine didn’t say much, only contributing when expressly asked something. Finally dinner was served so he had something to do with his hands and mouth.

The adults were all discussing candidates for the upcoming election for governor.

“I just don’t like Coleman,” Jonathan was saying. “Have you heard his rants about social programs?”

Mr. Anderson nodded, carefully sawing a piece of his turkey breast. “I know, I know,” he agreed. “The last thing we need now is a liberal in office.”

Emma spoke up, swirling her wineglass around. “He seems to have his heart in the right place.”

Jonathan snorted. “When has  _heart_  ever won an election? Besides, he’s a pansy, and he wants to change everything about the state. It’s ridiculous.”

Blaine’s father hummed his agreement, but didn’t say anything. Jonathan went on. “I mean, don’t fix what isn’t broken, that’s what I say. People are happy with the way things are. A bunch of New Agers with picket signs shouldn’t be taken into consideration by a  _governor_.”

Blaine swallowed hard on his mashed potatoes. Of course, they had to talk about politics. He tried to tune out the chatter around him, focusing on the decadent food in front of him instead, his mind straying to what he had to study and then contemplating his conversation with Kurt the previous night…

Until he heard his name.

“How about you, Blaine? How’s that school of yours?”

Blaine looked up at his uncle, and swallowed the stuffing he’d just put in his mouth. “Just fine, thank you.”

“What year are you now, dear?” Emma asked.

“I’m a sophomore,” Blaine said.

“Still hasn’t declared his major,” Blaine’s father grumbled. Blaine clenched his fork in his fist.

“Oh, you’d better get on that,” Emma said. “It’s important to get it all done quickly.”

“What’re you gonna be, Blaine?” Jonathan asked. “What’re you gonna do with your life?”

“Uh,” Blaine said, feeling his face heat up. “I’m not positive, right now, there are a lot of options…”

Emma leaned forward with a cheeky smile. “Gonna be a businessman like your father?”

Jonathan laughed. “He couldn’t make it as a businessman, dear. His face is too sweet. He didn’t inherit his father’s jaw line.”

Mr. Anderson smirked a bit, and Jonathan laughed at his own apparent wit. Blaine seethed, silently, picking at his potatoes but not putting any in his mouth.

“We’re just teasing, Blaine,” Emma said consolingly. Blaine didn’t look at her. “We just want to make sure you do something with your life.”

Jonathan chuckled. “We just don’t want you to turn into one of those damn hippies moaning about recycling and the lack of  _equality_.”

Blaine took a deep breath, looked up, and nodded curtly to his uncle. The conversation moved on, and Blaine forced down a few more bites of food before taking his cloth napkin off his lap and setting it on the table. He was feeling the weight so heavily, it was crushing him, hurting him, making him want to vomit. He stood up, and suddenly all eyes were on him.

“Excuse me,” he said with a polite, controlled smile, and then left the dining room. For all his family knew, he could be going to the bathroom. Instead he headed in the opposite direction, into the foyer, and out the front door, closing it quietly behind him. He walked down the driveway and got into his car.

He sat in the driver’s seat for a moment, staring blankly at nothing. He felt sick, mentally and physically. He had to get away from this house. He had to get away from those people and their words and their thoughts.

He wished he could get away from his  _own_  thoughts.

But he knew that the only way to do that was to confront them. To finally acknowledge what he had unconsciously known for days now, perhaps even for weeks. He had to stop ignoring his problems and focusing on control. He had to drop the weight entirely, let it fall down and shatter into a million tiny little pieces and step over them, walking as a free man for the first time in as long as he could remember. 

He turned on the engine and backed out of the driveway, heading towards Lima.

 

Kurt was seated at the Hummel-Hudson table between Carole and Kylie, Finn’s girlfriend. Kurt actually really liked Kylie- she was funny and smart, and seemed to make Finn genuinely happy. Finn’s relationship with Rachel had always been a constant rollercoaster, full of drama and break-ups and make-ups and hurt feelings and uncertainty. It had been painful for Kurt to see both of them, two people he really cared about, go through so much hurting. But Kylie seemed to be good for Finn. Simple, and honest. And not overtly touchy, which Kurt appreciated.

He was laughing and serving himself more green beans casserole when the doorbell rang. Everyone paused in their conversation.

“Who could that be?” Burt asked. No one had an answer.

“I’ll get it,” Finn said, getting up and walking out of the kitchen. Kurt finished serving himself, turning to Carole to resume their conversation. Before he could say anything, though, Finn’s head popped around the kitchen doorway.

“Kurt,” he said. “It’s for you.”

Utterly confused, Kurt got up and passed by Finn. He headed for the door, which had drifted nearly closed when Finn had abandoned it. Kurt reached for it and opened it all the way, revealing the figure on his front porch.

Kurt’s eyebrows drew together. “Blaine? What are you doing here?”


	29. Chapter 29

“Can I talk to you?” Blaine asked immediately, as if he’d been rehearsing it.

“Sure,” Kurt said, taking a step back. “Come on in.”

“Um, no,” Blaine seemed suddenly nervous, thrown off guard, like the script he’d been adhering to had been abandoned, and he didn’t know what to do without someone feeding him lines. “Can we just talk out here? You know, alone?”

Kurt raised an eyebrow. Why did Blaine want to talk to him alone? And even then, why outside? Kurt easily could have taken him up to his room.

Kurt decided to humor him, though. “Okay,” he said, stepping out on to the porch and closing the door behind him. He turned to Blaine. “What’s up?”

Blaine sighed, closing his eyes for a second. “There’s just...something I needed to talk to you about.”

“Okay,” Kurt said. “Go ahead and talk.”

Blaine looked at Kurt, and then looked away, out over the driveway. The trees were nearly all bare by now, leaves of varying colors littering the ground, leaving behind only twiggy skeletons. Kurt took that moment to notice that Blaine’s eyes were like the color of a vibrant autumn leaf. Blaine opened his mouth, and then closed it.

“Blaine,” Kurt said, quietly, barely audible over the breeze rattling the fallen leaves. “You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”

Maybe Kurt was overstepping. Maybe they weren’t to that point in their friendship- but Kurt didn’t care. He wanted Blaine to tell him everything. He wanted to know Blaine inside and out. And if Blaine didn’t feel the same way, well...what they had was nice while it lasted, anyway.

Blaine exhaled, seeming to relax a little bit, and met Kurt’s eyes again. “I left my family dinner to come here,” he told Kurt. “I just got up and excused myself and left. I don’t-” he laughed humorlessly. “I don’t even know how long it took them to notice I was gone. I turned my phone off on the way here.”

Kurt’s eyebrows drew together, concerned. “Blaine, why did you leave your family?”

Blaine shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. That’s not what I came here to talk about.”

“Then...what?”

Blaine took a deep breath, steeling himself. “I am...so confused. These last few weeks- ever since I met you- my life has been crazy. And at first, I kind of thought it was falling apart, or something. If you’d asked me a month ago, then...yeah, I’d qualify this as really, really sucky.” He laughed slightly at himself. “I’ve broken up with Maia. My parents are driving me insane. I’m stressed about school, and I don’t know what I want to do in the future. But...” Blaine paused, biting his lip. “But right now? I don’t feel like my life is falling apart. Sure it’s kind of...messy, I guess. Things are changing. But for once, I’m kind of okay with change. I’m ready for it. I want it. I’ve never wanted things to be different before. I’ve always been happy the way I was, in my comfort zone.”

Blaine rubbed his face with his hands, placing them momentarily over his mouth before continuing. “But, Kurt, you have done so much for me. I know that you think I’m just saying that, or something, but...before I met you I’d never have taken any of this in stride. I never would have considered new, alternative options. And it’s all so fucking confusing, but at least I’m thinking for myself for once.”

“Blaine…” Kurt said softly. He wasn’t sure how to respond to this.

“Just let me finish,” Blaine told him. “Let me get this all out before I lose my nerve.”

Kurt closed his mouth and nodded. Blaine continued speaking. “So, I’m finally thinking for myself, but I’m…I’m not sure what to make of all the thoughts I have. Things I never would have considered, things-  _feelings_  that I don’t understand, or don’t want to-“ Blaine paused suddenly, staring at his feet and shaking his head. “No, I do want to understand them. And even more than that, I want to  _act_  on them…”

“Blaine,” Kurt said, unable to keep quiet. “What are you…what do you mean?”

Blaine continued to stare at the porch for a moment. Everything was quiet except for the slight breeze, rustling the fallen leaves. Finally Blaine looked up, meeting Kurt’s eyes. “I don’t know how to say this. I don’t know what I’m doing. I know I usually have my shit together…But, Kurt, I- you’ve become so important to me in the past few weeks. More important than- than anyone else. No one has ever affected me the way you have. No one has ever made me feel so close and right and okay. I don’t really know how to describe it. It’s like my whole life I was looking for something, someone and then you showed up and I went, ‘oh, there you are. I’ve been looking for you forever.’ There’s something there, something that I feel about you, that I never expected, or anticipated, but now…there are so many things I want to change about my life. I want to change  _everything_. And I’m terrified. I’m so fucking scared. I’ve never gone out of my safe, simple little life I’ve made for myself before, but somehow…I think you’re worth. I think all of this is worth it.”

Blaine stopped speaking, and Kurt stared at him. There was a sort of buoyant bubble expanding in Kurt’s chest, rising and threatening to escape out his throat. Kurt was full of hope and fear, right on the edge. But he was certain of one thing.

Blaine looked so raw, so open. He’d never spoken so freely to Kurt before. Not even when he’d told Kurt about his dead brother. Blaine’s expression was pleading, praying for understanding. And Kurt understood. Kurt knew exactly what to do.

 

Blaine kept eye contact with Kurt, determined to see this through to the end. Whatever the verdict was, he’d face it head-on. He hoped Kurt would know what he was trying to say. Kurt seemed to be thinking, his eyes still on Blaine’s face.

“Blaine,” he breathed. Blaine timidly waited for him to go on. “Can I kiss you?”

There it was. Gaze unwavering, Blaine nodded slightly.

Kurt leaned forward, closing the distance between them, and pressed his lips to Blaine’s, soft and gentle. They rested there for only a moment before Kurt pulled back, looking at Blaine with wide eyes, as if he were still hesitant whether it was right. 

Blaine laughed suddenly, ridiculously. “You call that a kiss?”

Kurt laughed too, and the tension was broken, and Kurt was leaning back in and they were kissing again, for real this time, lips moving against eachother smoothly, and Blaine felt like fireworks were going off inside him and he’d never felt so simultaneously terrified and relieved in his life.

But he was in Kurt’s arms, and he  _liked_  Kurt, and Kurt liked _him_ , and that was all that really mattered.

Kurt pulled away, his eyes searching Blaine’s face, his hands on Blaine’s shoulders.

“What?” Blaine asked, his fear resurfacing.

Kurt broke into a smile. “I just- is this real? Is this really happening?”

“Believe me,” Blaine answered, his heart racing. “This is so, so very real.”

“ _Finally_ ,” Kurt whispered. He moved forward again, but not for a kiss. He wrapped his arms around Blaine, hugging him tightly.

Blaine let out the breath he’d been holding. “Finally,” he said back, feeling giddy.


	30. Chapter 30

Kurt invited Blaine inside to finish Thanksgiving dinner. Kurt’s family was surprised but accommodating- Carole got up to go find another chair while Finn set out another place setting. Blaine joined them and dinner resumed. Blaine, once again, was good at making conversation with everyone, including Kylie- but this time, he seemed lighter, less inhibited. Kurt grinned to himself the whole meal, and sometimes he and Blaine would catch eachother’s eyes across the table, and Kurt could feel himself blushing.

After dinner, Blaine excused himself temporarily and went outside to call his parents. Kurt watched through the kitchen window as he and Finn washed dishes, his eyes following Blaine’s figure as it paced in the driveway.

When Blaine came back inside, everyone but Kurt was settled in front of the TV to watch football. Kurt was leaning against the doorway, looking at Blaine. They met eyes and Kurt nodded in the direction of the stairs. Blaine smiled and followed Kurt upstairs to his room. Kurt shut the door behind them.

“So,” Kurt said, suddenly feeling apprehensive. “I think we should talk.”

Blaine sighed, walking over to the bed and sitting on it heavily. “I know,” he answered, staring at the wall. “I just really, really don’t feel like talking.”

Kurt sighed, but smiled slightly. “Okay,” he said quietly. “We don’t have to talk yet.”

Instead they lay on Kurt’s bed together, staring at the ceiling and listening to Kurt’s music. They were both flat on their backs, a couple inches apart. After a few songs which they spent in companionable silence, Kurt reached over and took Blaine’s hand in his, squeezing it. It took a moment, a nervous, held-breath moment, but then Blaine squeezed back.

Eventually it got late and Blaine decided it was time to go. Kurt gently kissed his cheek before they left his room, and then they walked out together.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?” Kurt said as Blaine climbed into his car.

“Okay,” Blaine smiled. “Can’t wait.”

Kurt grinned, stepping back and waving as Blaine pulled out. He watched the taillights retreat into the distance before going back inside.

Later that night, someone tapped on Kurt’s door. It was late- he’d thought everyone was already in bed. “Come in,” he said softly.

Burt opened the door, leaning against the frame. “Hey, kiddo,” he greeted.

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Hey, Dad.”

Burt glanced back out to the hallway before speaking, seeming hesitant. “So, uh…this Blaine kid,” he began. “Is there…something going on between you two?”

Kurt sighed, leaning back against his headboard. “There’s  _something_. Not quite sure what it is yet, though.”

Burt nodded, pursing his lips. “Wasn’t he, uh…in a relationship?”

Kurt blushed slightly, remembering the whole girlfriend fiasco. “Not anymore.”

Burt seemed to size up Kurt for a moment, and then nodded again. “Okay,” he said finally. “Goodnight, Kurt.”

“Night, Dad.”

Burt closed the door behind him, leaving Kurt to his thoughts.

 

When Blaine woke up the next morning, he had a new text. It was from Kurt.

_Meet me at the Lima Bean at 11?_

Blaine smiled softly as he affirmed the plan. He put his phone down and sat up, stretching and yawning. It was still before ten, so he had plenty of time.

After Blaine showered and got dressed he paused in front of his bathroom mirror, holding a bottle of hair gel in his hand. After a moment of deliberation, though, he set it back down and let his curls be.

Kurt was already at the coffee shop, sitting at a table and blowing gently on his drink. Blaine approached him. "You should have waited for me,” he said when he reached the table. “I would have bought your coffee.”

“You don’t know my order,” Kurt replied, smiling coyly.

“One of many things I need to start finding out,” Blaine said, grinning back.

Once Blaine had his own coffee and they were settled in across the table from eachother, Kurt took a deep breath. “So…what did your parents say when you called last night?”

Blaine didn’t comment on the lack of build-up to the question. He could understand why Kurt didn’t want to go through formalities. They’d been beating around the bush for weeks now. “I talked to my mom. They were angry, but I explained that I had something I really needed to do. She said she forgave me. I don’t know about my dad.”

Kurt seemed to hesitate, and then reached across the table and took Blaine’s hand in his. Blaine smiled, Kurt’s hand feeling very  _right_ around his own. “I’ll work it out with them.”

“Good,” Kurt said.

“Um…” Blaine felt his stomach tighten. Not wanting to go on, he picked up his coffee cup and took a sip from it, burning his mouth. Grimacing, he set it down and decided to just go for it. “You’re leaving on Sunday.”

“Yeah.”

“Back to New York.”

Kurt sighed. “Yep.”

Blaine stared at Kurt for a moment, examining his face. “What’re we gonna do?” he asked, his tone tinged with helplessness.

Kurt took a deep breath, seeming to steel himself for his answer. “I don’t want this to end,” he said, punctuating the sentence with a squeeze to Blaine’s hand. “We just got started.” Kurt smiled, and Blaine returned it.

Blaine, however, had to hesitantly ask, “Well, what exactly…are we?”

Kurt pursed his lips, still smiling, his face lit up. “I don’t know yet,” he said honestly. “But I’d really like to find out.”

Blaine felt that bubble-in-his-chest sensation again, reminiscent of what he’d experienced the previous day on Kurt’s front porch. Suddenly, he felt completely at ease. Kurt was leaving, but he wasn’t leaving Blaine behind. They would talk and text and get to know eachother further, to build on what they already had. They’d figure out exactly what they were going to do, and what they were going to be. Blaine was relieved, because he knew that he still needed time to figure out who he was. And this was going to be a great start, the beginning of something new and overwhelming and wonderful.

“Me too,” he told Kurt, so joyful that he could just say what he wanted, say what he meant.

Blaine grinned unabashedly across the table, feeling light and free and completely himself.

 

The two boys finished their coffee and then wandered aimlessly around town, walking up and down streets in the chilly air, glancing in the windows of shops and chatting. Every so often they would brush shoulders or hands and Blaine would feel a thrill go down his spine, his smile warming his whole face. Even though he at least knew what he was doing, Blaine still felt mixed-up inside. He was still quietly sad about Maia, giddily excited about Kurt, queasy and worried when he thought of his parents. But all of his internal confusion disappeared when he heard Kurt’s laugh, high and melodic, or felt the soft warm skin of Kurt’s hand brush against him. Blaine was confident that even if things were out-of-whack now, they wouldn’t stay that way. Things were going to work out. They might be scary, or foreign, or new, but everything would end up okay. And that was all Blaine needed to know.


	31. Chapter 31

“ _I was once born to be bad_ ,” Kurt sang along softly with the music, “ _I used to shiver like that_ …”

Blaine smiled, glancing quickly over at Kurt before returning his eyes to the road. The exit for Columbus was coming up soon.

Kurt’s hand rested on Blaine’s knee, his long, thin finger tracing lazy circles against Blaine’s jeans. It felt comforting, promising. It made Blaine feel better, more positive. He needed as much positivity and courage as he could get right now.

The song from  _Rent_  ended and an older pop song came on. Kurt reached forward, momentarily removing his hand from Blaine’s leg, to turn the volume down.

“So,” Kurt said. “What’re you going to do once I’m gone?”

Blaine smiled slightly. It was Sunday afternoon, and Kurt’s flight left in only a few hours. It was the last time they were going to see eachother in person for a while- at least until Christmas.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Blaine replied in the same teasing tone. “Pine after you endlessly, I guess.”

Kurt chuckled slightly. Blaine waited, but Kurt didn’t say anything.  _This is my chance_ , Blaine thought. He’d been unsure whether he should tell Kurt first, but now was the time.

“But really,” Blaine went on, no longer joking. “First I’m going to go to my parents’ house tonight.” It was quiet in the car, only the faintest strains of the music audible, as if Kurt knew that Blaine needed to get this out. “And…I’m going to tell them about us, first.”

Kurt’s hand squeezed Blaine’s knee slightly, in support. “It’ll be fine,” he promised.

Blaine nodded, his eyes fixed on the highway. “And then, if they haven’t fainted from shock…I’m going to tell them something else.”

Kurt hesitated before asking, “What?”

Blaine took a deep breath. “I’m going to tell them that I want to transfer schools. OSU is great, but…it’s just not for me. I’ve missed any deadlines for spring semester, but I should be able to change next fall. I think I need to go to a school in a more… _metropolitan_  area.”

There was a moment, only a few seconds long, where Kurt didn’t get it. And then he gasped, his hand once again tightening. “No, Blaine,” he said, “You can’t mean-“

“Yeah,” Blaine interrupted. “I think New York is really the place I need to be.”

“Blaine,” Kurt said, imploring, taking his hand off of Blaine so that he could gesture. “Don’t do this. You can’t switch schools, move hundreds of miles for  _me_ , that’s ridiculous!”

“Kurt,” Blaine cut him off, before he got any more worked up. “Listen, I appreciate the concern. But this isn’t for you. Sure, being in the same city as you would be a perk, but…it’s more than that.” Blaine paused, making sure he could properly explain it. “I have spent my entire life doing things for other people. And for the first time, I’m realizing that I need to be my own person. So this is one-hundred percent for  _me_. I want to live in a big city. I want to experience life in a different way, and I have the feeling that New York is the right place for me, whether or not you’re there. So don’t worry about it. I’m doing this to make myself happy, okay?”

After a second, Kurt touched Blaine’s arm, gently. “Okay,” he said, quietly.

Blaine smiled, relieved. “Good.”

They were nearly to the airport. They didn’t say anything else for the rest of the ride, but Kurt didn’t turn the music back up, either.

 

 

Kurt pecked Blaine’s lips before turning away and heading through security. Blaine watched him remove his jacket and shoes and get waved through the metal detector. Once Kurt was on the other side, he glanced up and saw that Blaine was still watching. He waved, grinning, and Blaine waved back, then turned away.

He wandered around the airport, killing time, before walking back to his car. He drove towards Westerville, parking in his parents’ expansive driveway just before six. He checked his phone to see that he had a new text from Kurt.

_Plane’s about to take off. Have courage! <3_

Blaine grinned, the knot in his stomach loosening slightly. Then he slipped his phone into his pocket and headed for the front door.

 

As Blaine drove home that night, he had to pull over along the side of the highway at one point. He was so angry, and sad, and ashamed, he couldn’t see straight. He turned the engine off and rested his head on the steering wheel, pressing hard against it so that the rubbery material pushed into his forehead.

He couldn’t get the words out of his head.

 _“I’m interested in someone,”_  he’d said.

 _“Is that why you and Maia broke up?”_  His father had asked sharply from the head of the table.  _“Did you cheat on her?”_

The idea was laughable.  _“No, dad, I didn’t cheat on anyone. Maia and I broke up because we weren’t suited to eachother.”_

Mr. Anderson had muttered something under his breath, but Blaine ignored it, instead focusing on his mother’s comforting expression.

 _“You know my friend I mentioned, Kurt?”_  Of course, his mother did remember.

 _“Oh, did he introduce you to this girl you like?”_  She’d asked, interested.

 _“No,”_  Blaine had said, twisting the napkin in his lap between his hands nervously.  _“It_ is _him. He’s the one I like.”_

And then the silence. The terrible, suffocating silence that had descended on the Anderson family table. Blaine was finding it hard to breathe, as though the air had been sucked out of the room.

 _"Are you trying to tell us that you’re…gay?”_  Mrs. Anderson seemed to struggle a little bit with the word. Blaine didn’t look over at his father.

 _“I’m telling you that I’m romantically interested in Kurt,”_  Blaine had said quietly, simply.

That was when Mr. Anderson stood and left the room. Blaine stared at his empty plate, feeling sick.

Blaine’s mom had come around the table to sit next to him, and rested her hand on his shoulder, but it still felt terribly unbalanced in the room.  _“There’s something else I wanted to tell you,”_  Blaine had mumbled.

 _“What is it, sweetie?”_  Mrs. Anderson had spoken very softly.

_“I think I want to transfer schools.”_

Mrs. Anderson had squeezed Blaine’s shoulder.  _“I think that’s something we should talk about another time.”_

After that, she’d told Blaine that he should probably leave.  _“I’ll talk to your father. Don’t worry about it. I’m sure he’s just…a bit shocked.”_

Blaine had scoffed, feeling a lump rise in his throat.

As Mrs. Anderson had ushered Blaine to the front door, he’d caught a glimpse into the living room. His father had been standing there, facing the fireplace. He’d been staring at the framed photo at the center of the mantle- the photo of Blaine’s parents and Cooper, their original family of three.

And then Blaine had been escorted outside, into the cold air, surrounded by darkness.

 

Blaine took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself. He needed to drive back to his dorm- then he could lose control all he wanted.

He picked up his phone and went to his messages, rereading the one he’d received from Kurt. _Have courage._

Blaine pulled back onto the highway and headed to school. He repeated the word like a mantra in his head: _Courage, courage, courage_. He’d had the courage to tell Kurt how he felt. He had the courage to try and step outside of his comfort zone, to consider changing his life. He’d had the courage to tell his parents. And with his newfound courage, and with Kurt by his side, he’d be able to make it through this. There was a light at the end of the tunnel: his own freedom and happiness, a life that he made entirely for himself. It would be worth it. All of this would be worth it, in the end. Blaine was sure of it.


	32. Epilogue

**Eight Months Later**

Blaine got out of his car and walked up to the nostalgically familiar door. He ran a hand through his hair, cropped short but ungelled, still occasionally unruly- although he was getting better with the conditioner Kurt had mailed him- and then rang the doorbell.

He heard footsteps approaching, and then the door swung open.

“Oh, Blaine,” Maia said. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Blaine answered, taking her in. She was wearing jeans and a lacy blouse, her dark hair pulled up into a bun, perfect except for a few flyaway strands.

“Come on in,” she said, stepping back.

Blaine walked into the house, sighing as the air-conditioning enveloped him.

“My parents are at a conference,” Maia said, and then paused, blushing. “Do you want coffee?”

“Sure,” Blaine accepted, because he was unsure what to do, and he could tell she was too. He’d been the one to call her after so many months, to ask if he could drop by, but now the strange feeling in the air, and sweat forming on his palms, made him think maybe he shouldn’t have bothered.

They sat down in the living room with their coffee, both on the couch but with a full cushion between them. It was quiet for a moment before Maia spoke. “So…you’re leaving.”

Blaine nodded. “Yep. Official moving day is Saturday.”

Maia whistled softly. “Wow. New York City.”

Blaine smiled, feeling a little bubble of joy inside him just at the name. He loved thinking that he was going to live there in only a few days.

“It’s a big change,” Maia noted.

Blaine shrugged. “I think I needed a big change.”

“Are you…” Maia seemed embarrassed. She sipped her coffee before going on. “You’re going to live with Kurt.”

Blaine nodded slowly. “Yep. That’s the plan for now, anyway.”

Maia was silent for a moment, staring at the coffee mug in her hands. “And…what about your parents?” She asked eventually.

Blaine let out a stream of air. “They’re…they don’t quite understand. Any of it.  _Especially_  Kurt. But they’re still paying my tuition, and helping me pack up my things. If not supportive, they’re at least tolerant.”

Maia nodded, looking at her lap. She took a deep breath and finally looked up, meeting Blaine’s eyes. “I want you to be happy, Blaine,” she said.

Blaine smiled softly. “I am happy, Maia,” he told her. “And…thank you.”

Maia shook her head, her cheeks flushing. “Don’t thank me.”

“What about you?” Blaine asked. “Are you happy?”

Maia set her mug down on the coffee table and rested her hands on her thighs. “Yes,” she said finally. “Or at least…I know what I want. And I’m going to be happy.”

Blaine’s smile widened. “Good. I’m happy for you.”

They smiled at eachother.

They finished their coffees, chatting idly, the uncomfortable atmosphere gone. Blaine stood, saying that he had to go finish all his packing. Maia walked him to the door, and after a second of hesitation, leaned forward and hugged him.

“I’m glad you came by,” she whispered.

Blaine hugged her back. “I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye,” he told her.

Then he left, getting into his car and driving away from her house, feeling once again the liberation that he’d been blessed with for the past several months.

 

 

 

“It’s  _so hot_  in here!” Rachel exclaimed, opening yet another window. “Can it be October yet?”

Kurt set a heavy box down on the coffee table, and then cast an irritated glance over at his ex-roommate. “Rachel, when you offered to help me move I thought maybe you’d actually do something helpful.”

“I  _am_  being helpful,” she insisted, putting her hands on her hips. “I’m ventilating the new apartment.”

“It’s hotter outside than it is inside,” Kurt told her. “You’re just making it worse in here.”

Rachel opened her mouth, but then closed it, apparently having no suitable retort.

Kurt wiped sweat off of his forehead, and then reached into his pocket and took out his phone. He scowled at it. “Blaine told me he’d text me when he parked,” he complained. “What’s taking him so long?”

Rachel shrugged, picking up a  _Vanity Fair_  poking out of one of the boxes and fanning herself with it. “He’s undoubtedly in traffic. Calm down.”

Kurt sighed, putting his phone back. He decided to find his packing list and do inventory when there was a knock on the door.

Kurt and Rachel looked at eachother, eyebrows raised quizzically.

Kurt walked to the door and opened it, only to be attacked by the person on the other side. Panic turned to joy, though, when he realized that it was Blaine, hugging him so tightly he could hardly breathe.

“Blaine!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here? You were supposed to text me!”

“Surprises are better,” Blaine insisted, loosening the hug so that he could press his lips to Kurts’. 

“We-ell,” Rachel said from the kitchenette. “I think this is my cue to bow out. Goodbye, boys!”

She grabbed her purse and left the apartment, closing the door behind her.

“Sorry,” Blaine said, not sounding very sincere.

“She wasn’t helping anyway,” Kurt answered. The two boys were still holding eachother close, despite the stifling heat.

“So this is our new home?” Blaine asked.

Kurt nodded. “Do you want a tour?”

Blaine pretended to think about it. “No…I think I have to kiss you more first.”

Kurt smiled, unable to contain the mirth that was filling his body. “Good to see you have your priorities straight.”

“You first,” Blaine breathed before going in for another kiss. “Always you first.”

Kurt closed his eyes, feeling like he was really, truly at home, finally.

**The End.**


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